Fate, or Something Like It
by This Is My Escape
Summary: Elena Gilbert decides that enough is enough and is tired of waiting for "the one" to give her a family. After taking it upon herself, she gets artificially inseminated. What happens when she meets who she thinks is "Mr. Right" soon after? Rated M for coarse language and adult scenes. AU. AH.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_Fate, or Something Like It _

**Summary:** _Elena Gilbert decides that enough is enough and is tired of waiting for "the one" to give her a family. After taking it upon herself, she gets artificially inseminated. What happens when she meets Mr. Right soon after?  
_

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own LJ Smith's/Julie Plec's characters. The plot is loosely based on 'The Backup Plan,' but the twists and turns belong to me. Don't be a thief. If you steal from my story, I'll have Damon go after you. He's…well, he's Team Kate. Don't piss him off. ;)_

**Rating: **_M for adult scenes in later chapters and coarse language._

**Note:** _First of all, thank you to Sandra for looking over this first chapter and giving suggestions and to Morgan for being a beta to this story. If you haven't read their stories yet, you should. Their usernames on this site are dutchtreat and morvamp. As for what you're about to read... t__his is very different than my other stories. It's sort of an experiment, so I'm a bit nervous. I hope you enjoy it. _~Kate

* * *

I never thought that at twenty-eight I would still be waiting to be a mother, let alone waiting for my perfect match. I wasn't sure if I even believed in soul-mates, but I knew that there was at least one person in the world that was right for them.

Maybe there was something wrong with me; something that screamed, '_You won't be happy with this one. Look elsewhere.'_ Who the hell knows, but after being screwed over time and time again, either with an ex-boyfriend coming out of the closet, someone cheating on me behind my back – better than in right front of me, like another ex-had done – and many other rotten experiences that brought me to this point, I've decided that I'm done.

I never thought I'd be the one to say it the one to say, '_Screw it. I'm done waiting.' _But here I am, in the waiting room, waiting to be seen by Manhattan's most prestigious reproductive specialist.

I, Elena Gilbert, will be getting artificially inseminated.

I hear the door open and a nurse is calling out a woman's name that isn't my own. The lady stands up and she's round with child as she walks through the door with her husband hand-in-hand. He's got his other hand wrapped around her waist and she's looking up at him like he's God's gift to Earth. _Lucky bitch,_ I think to myself.

Yeah, can you tell I'm a bit envious?

I don't get it. I really don't. I'm a good girl. Not saintly, or anything like that, but I don't smoke, I'm not that big of a drinker and I've never broken the law. I mean, I'm not exactly a do-gooder either. I screw up every now and then, but who doesn't? For example, I once got drunk and had a one-night stand with an old friend from high school the same night we bumped into each other after not seeing each other for five years. Awkward? Nah. We've always been – and still are – great friends. Was the sex good?

Well…let's just say I wasn't left satisfied.

I pick up a baby magazine and start flipping through the pages. Most of the pictures are of Mom and Baby strolling through the park or breast-feeding and I honestly can't help but to picture that I'm the mother pushing that child in its stroller, or sitting in the rocking chair while the baby drinks from me, and…

And I need to calm down.

I haven't been tested to see if I'm even eligible for this procedure yet. I see the nurse at the reception desk cast a glance my way before jotting down something on her clipboard. I look back down at my magazine and start reading…well, more like_ fantasizing_ again.

"Elena Gilbert," her chipper voice calls and my head snaps back up. "Doctor Fell is ready to see you now." My pulse quickens and my heart thumps in my chest. I don't know why I'm nervous. Well, scratch that; yes I do, because this lady's either going to tell me the procedure will work, or she's going to tell me I can't because she either finds me unsuitable to be a mother, or something's wrong with the plumbing inside or…

"Okay," I reply, standing up and banishing all negative thoughts. I follow the nurse through the corridor and into a small, eerily neat white room. There are screens and ultrasounds and utensils that all look extremely sterile. _Well, that's encouraging_. My heart jumps when the doctor knocks on the door. I tell her to come in and the next thing I know she's jumping to sit on the counter, as if she's a family member, getting ready to make some casual conversation.

Which is ironic, since this conversation is about to be _anything_ but casual.

"How are you today, Miss Gilbert?"

I shrug and push a rebel hair behind my ear. "I'm…fine," I tell her, though it doesn't sound all that convincing.

"There's no reason for you to be worried. We're just going to converse, okay? I know you've been waiting for this appointment for quite some time now." I nod. That was an understatement and a half. I'd been waiting months for this day to finally get here so these experts could tell me what I craved to know; if I would be eligible for going through the procedure.

"I'm going to ask you some questions. That's it, that's all." Her smile is warm and the tension in my shoulders fades immediately, believing her. "Relax."

And despite the magnitude of the situation, that's what I do.

Ten minutes later and she's shaking my hand. Apparently I've passed the verbal portion of the test. Turning around, Doctor Fell is pulling open a drawer and handing me a gown. "That wasn't so bad was it?" I shake my head and she instructs, "I'll give you a few moments, but I'd like you to change out of all your clothes, minus your bra. You can leave that on and change into this."

"Okay," I reply, nodding in agreement. Then she's gone so I can put on the ugly outfit. I hop onto the bed and lay back, trying to figure out if I should place my feet in the stirrups or not. I test it and succumb to my curiosity. The metal's cold, and I immediately remind myself of those women in those television shows and movies where their lady parts are open for the world to see so they can push out their baby - certainly not an image I want to be visualizing just yet. I yank my feet back and shake my head, swallowing when another knock sounds on the door. "Come in."

"Are we ready?" the woman smiles and I nod, watching her like a hawk as she moves to the foot of the bed and sits down on the stool. I shrug. _Is anyone ever ready to be probed and examined?_ I feel her searching my cervix, poking and prodding around in there, and she's staring intently at me. And by _at me_, I'm referring to my vagina.

Another period of time passes before she's pulling back and peeling off her gloves. I'm trying to gauge her answer by looking at her expression, though she's giving me nothing. My mind is flying like a rocket. Am I okay to be inseminated? Do I have the green-light? How about a yellow-light? I'll take anything but a red-light. Please just –

"Well, Miss Gilbert, I don't see why having this procedure can't work for you," she says, cutting off my frantic whirl of thoughts and I want to do a happy dance. I can have a baby? She's going to inseminate me! Granted it'll be by the sperm of a man I've never met, but who cares? I'm finally going to be a mother. "Come back in two days. According to your charts, you'll have just started ovulating. I'll set up the appointment for Wednesday at two in the afternoon."

Those pictures of those mothers and babies will soon be describing my baby and mine's relationship. I'll be able to take a stroll with him down the park or have her drink from me. The thoughts are wonderful and I want to tell her how happy she's made me, maybe even give her a hug or something, but all that comes out is a tearful, "Thank you."

She smiles the same kind smile she gave me before, and then closes the door behind her. I change back into my clothes and examine myself in the mirror that's hung on the back of the door. Turning to face the wall, I place my hands over my flat stomach. Hopefully, the procedure will be a success the first time around – I've heard of it sometimes taking multiple tries – and I'll have a being inside me, someone that will look up to me and call me Mama, or Mommy in a few years' time.

I wave to the nurse as I leave the office in bliss, feeling insane amounts of confidence pump through my veins. Who needs a husband? Who needs a boyfriend for that matter? I'm making this happen all on my own and I'm damn proud. I don't know why I didn't do this sooner.

* * *

I decide to celebrate by running to the coffee shop. No, not to drink it, of course – it's unhealthy for a mom, or a future mom – to have so much caffeine. No, I'm going for water and a blueberry scone. It's probably irrelevant to even discuss it, but my mom used to make me scones all the time. She's a phenomenal pastry chef. However, she lives back in Virginia in a tiny town known as Mystic Falls. I rarely see her, though we talk all the time.

I wonder what she's going to say about my decision to have a baby.

I'm sure she'll support me. Miranda Gilbert is one of the kindest people in the world – and it sounds like I'm just saying that because she's my mother, but it's the truth. She'll support me like she always has. I know she will. My dad on the other hand, will probably be apprehensive, and I get it. I'm his little girl. I'll always be his baby, blah blah blah. But when all is said and done, I know he'll be there for me too.

Speaking of having a support system, Caroline Forbes – also know as my best friend - is going to lose her freaking mind. A blonde bombshell of fun, she'll probably be as excited about my having a baby as I am right now. I have no doubts that she'll be my go-to girl. She'll probably even beg me to let her be there for the delivery.

I can't stop the bubble of giggles that erupt from me as I think about it. I'm not even pregnant, haven't even _had_ the procedureyet, and I'm thinking nine months into the future.

Shaking my hyperactive thoughts aside, I open the door to the little café and the little bell attached to it rings, announcing my arrival. It's quite busy and I'm reminded that it's currently noon and people are on their lunch break.

"Elena!" the woman behind the counter beams at me. I wave to Bree Montgomery. One of the nicest women I've ever met, she's holding up a bottle of water and asks if I'd like a glass with ice and lemon. I've gone to this café practically every day for the last three years. I nod happily and she hands it to me. "Would you like the usual today, sweet-cheeks?"

I nod with a giggly, "Thank you." She does a double-take before going to fulfill my order.

"Elena Gilbert," she smiles with a suspicious gleam in her eye. "You are in quite the mood. Care to share?**" **she asks, handing me my blueberry scone.

I don't want to share my news with her before I've had a chance to tell Caroline, or my parents, but I give her a telling grin. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Wha-well, what is_ that_ supposed to mean?" she laughs and I shake my head at her as if to say 'not yet.' She pleads with me before finally giving in. "Alright, alright. I'll try to be patient."

I walk out of the café realizing I left without paying. Spinning around on my heels with my scone in hand, I smack into a body and my favorite treat flies from my grasp.

"Shit!" the voice hisses and I see there is coffee drenching his shirt and tie. He's holding his hands out wide, as if that helps, while trying to pat himself dry with napkins at the same time.

"Oh, my God!" I gasp, biting my lip in embarrassment. "I am so sorry!" I reach out to help dry him off and his gaze flickers to meet mine just as I look up at him. My breath catches in my throat and I'm sure I've never seen eyes quite so striking. They're as blue as the ocean and they honestly leave my mind a jumbled mess. "Are you okay?" I ask, thankful my question hasn't come out as garbled as I feel.

He nods slowly, staring intently at me and I see him swallow before holding a hand out. "Damon."

"Elena," I say breathlessly, feeling his large hand wrap around mine with a tender strength and I don't want to let go of it. "I really am sorry about your coffee. I was meaning to go back in to pay for this, but…"

"You mean you stole it?" he asks with amusement and I'm quickly shaking my head, blushing when he yanks his hand out of mine.

"No, of course not! I'm just…I forgot to pay, and Bree, the owner, she forgot to tell me the price. Anyway, I'd like to buy you another coffee to make up for spilling yours all down your shirt."

"It's fine," he shrugs, running a hand through his jet black hair. I'm finding it hard to restrain myself from running my own hands through it. "It just hurt like hell. Though, nothing's better at getting you alert than to have scalding coffee seep into your shirt."

"Nice rhyme. And…again, sorry," I say for what I feel is the tenth time.

"Eh. Don't worry about it."

"Come on," I gesture for him to follow me back inside. "I owe you." _A drink, a make-out session, a lap-dance, whatever the hell your heart desires._

"You do," Damon nods, but a smirk plays on his lips along with a playful look in his eyes and my stomach jumps. "But instead of coffee, how about dessert?"

"Dessert?" I squeak and he laughs. I was already thinking of the many ways he and I could enjoy each other's company and he says that? And dessert? _Together_? Strawberries, chocolate syrup, whipped cream…oh, the deliciousness of it all…

"But, it'd be my treat," he tells me, bringing me out of my tempting thoughts.

I blink at him and he reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet. Opening it and taking out a card, he hands it to me then gives me a pen. "I'd love to take you out. Here, just write your name and number, and I'll call you sometime."

I nod mutely and fill out the card. I hand it back to him and he places it into his wallet, flashing me a pearl-white grin. I nearly fall over as he drawls, "See you around, Elena."

_Yes, please._ I remember how the two of us met and search for my poor scone. After finding it trampled by the bustling feet of New York's pedestrians, I enter the café and purchase two. One for myself and one for the scone I sent flying when I met Damon.

* * *

I walk into my apartment and lock the door behind me. Hanging up my jacket and placing my keys on the entry table, I hear my phone buzz three times, signaling that I have a voicemail waiting for me.

_Could it be Damon?_

I quickly shake off that thought. _Nah_. He doesn't seem like the desperate type – far from it, actually. He probably has a million girls waiting for him, and could easily grab anyone he desires. With those eyes, it's impossible _not_ to want him.

Clicking the 'play' button, I hear a bright, _"Elena!"_ and I know it's Caroline. _"So, it's been an entire six hours since you and I have talked, and that is just not okay! I hope you're not on your deathbed or anything because I would be extremely offended if I couldn't hold your hand and wow this message is turning morbid fast." _I laugh at her depressing, albeit peppy rambling as she quickly says, _"Anyway, I miss you, lady! Let's have a girls' night soon, shall we? Call me back, love you, bye!" _

The message cuts back and I can't hold back the grin. There's so much I have to tell her and I'm honestly thinking about calling her right now and telling her of my plan. _Do it_,the excited future mommy within me pokes, and I'm helpless to deny her.

Picking up the phone, I dial my best friend's number and she picks up on the second ring. _"I haven't talked to you in ages!" _are her first words and I roll my eyes.

"I called you at like, midnight, Caroline."

"_Did you get my message? Let's have a girls' night sometime this week. We're in desperate need and I have something_ huge_ to tell you!" _I open my mouth to say something, and she cuts me off with, _"I'm sure you have news, too! Especially since you were acting way weird last night and you sounded weird, but now you sound…I don't know, not…weird. You sound relieved? Anyway, what gives? Spill!"_

I laugh into the phone at her excited rambling words – as well as her eerily_ accurate_ words. "You're right, I do have something to tell you, but it's not something I want to share over the phone, okay? Please. Let's have our night tonight and then we can gossip till we're blue in the face." Lord knows she loves to do that.

"_Fabulous! I'll come over around five, see you soon!"_

"Bye, Caroline." Click.

* * *

When five o'clock finally rolls around, I hear a quick knock pounding happily on my door. Caroline's not only so peppy and optimistic that one may think she's on cocaine, but she's also extremely punctual. She's always anywhere she needs to be on time and not a minute later.

I open the door and before I have the chance to greet her, she's throwing her arms around me and bouncing up and down with so much enthusiasm I have to wonder if she's going to burst. "You okay?" I jokingly ask and she's bobbing her head up and down with a beaming smile. "Okay…" I finally say since she doesn't say anything more, and I walk into my kitchen to put a kettle on the stove. I need to start drinking herbal tea.

"Well, aren't you going to guess?" Caroline finally squeals (she's also quite impatient) and I overdramatically tap my index finger on my chin, pouting contemplatively.

"You've met a supermodel?"

"No!" She playfully shoots a glare at me and shakes her head. "I wouldn't do that to Stefan, Elena!" The moment she says his name, I know it's related to him by the look on her face and my mouth drops open; I know where this is going. She sees my reaction and Caroline squeals, "He proposed!"

My smile threatens to rip my face in half and she's in my arms in a second. I'm squeezing her and I feel tears well in my eyes as I choke out, "I'm so happy for you."

And really I am, Stefan's always been good to her and will always be good for her. They've been together for three years, known each other since high school, and Caroline and I were beginning to wonder if he'd ever pop the question. "How did he ask you?"

She flashes me her ring and my eyes bulge out of my head, I'm sure of it. It was a platinum band with a beautiful tear drop diamond; it's absolutely stunning. I look back up at her and her eyes are bright with eager bliss, but while I'm still emphatically happy for her, I can't stop the stab of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.

I know I said I didn't _need_ a husband…but that didn't mean I didn't want one.

"Last night he brought me to SoHo. You know that little Chinese restaurant I told you we went for our first date? Well, we went there and he had our spot in the corner so I didn't think much of it. All that was on the table was a little take-out box and he told me to open it so I did and when I did I saw the ring!" Caroline inhales deeply from the extremely long run-on sentence she's just spewed at a mile a minute with one breath. Her eyes were shiny, but she looked so euphoric that I wasn't worried. "He told me he wanted to have a million more Tuesday nights stopping by Mooncake Foods and then Stefan showed me the ring."

"Awe," I smile, turning the heat up for my kettle of cool water. "So, what happened then?"

"We had sex, of course!" she giggles. "Lots and lots of celebratory sex," she adds with a wink. She gazed down at her hand and the piece of jewelry sitting perfectly there. "Elena, I'm so happy."

"I'm happy for you."

Caroline sits up straight then, and still keeping the ring in her line of view, she asks. "So, what's your big news?"

Suddenly what I have to tell her doesn't seem so important, well…not nearly _as_ important. I knew Caroline well. I knew when she was lying and so I prepared myself. I take in a deep breath and tell her, "I'm going to be a mom."

"YOU'RE PREGNANT?" Caroline shrieks, and now it was her turn for her eyes to be as big as saucers. Her jaw drops and when she finally screeches, "Really?!" I didn't think it was possible, but my best friend's smile just grew about three sizes. "Why didn't you…how long have you…" It's obvious she's at a loss for words, but then she manages. "WHO IS THE FATHER?"

I shake my head, stifling my laughter. "There is no father."

"Wait," she furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "What? What the hell are you talking about? If you're pregnant, there must be –"

"There's no father, Caroline." At least, not one that matters and not one that'll be around to raise it. "And I'm not pregnant, yet."

"But –"

"I'm going to be artificially inseminated."

Caroline closes her eyes, cocks a brow, and then opens one of them. "…You're going to use some unknown man's sperm to impregnate you? I know you're tired of waiting for the right guy, Elena, but…"

"That's just it, Caroline. I'm tired of _waiting_. I can't seem to find 'the one,' and I'm starting to wonder if he even exists. I know that I want a baby, and sure I want a man, but I want to be a mother more. I need to do this now; I can't wait forever. I don't need a husband to make it happen."

"Of course not," she agrees with a shake of her head. "I didn't mean to give you the wrong idea, I'm totally here for you. It's just…are you sure?" I nod. "Really sure?" I nod again. "One hundred percent –"

"Yes, Care," I laugh. "I don't have doubt in my mind. This is the right thing for me; it's what I want."

And it is. I firmly believe it is, and I'm not just saying it to placate my eager best friend. After seeing the ring on her finger, though, and hearing how Stefan proposed…I can't help but wonder if I'm acting a smidge too soon.

"What if I introduce you to Stefan's brother?" she suddenly questions and I gape at her. What brother?

"Stefan has a brother?" I ask. "I didn't know that."

"I didn't either," she giggles and waves her hand to stop me from interrupting her. "Yes, he has a brother. He's a bit…well, he's a bit intense, but funny and sexy as hell and I think you'll like him." She thinks about it for a moment as she purses her lips and stares at me as if I'm some sort of abstract painting. "Yeah, I think you'll like him. I'll call up Stefan real quick and we'll see if we can meet up Wednesday."

"Sure." I blink and then frown, realizing what Wednesday means. "Wednesday…what time Wednesday? That's when I'm supposed to have the procedure."

She shrugs. "We can have it be tomorrow?"

"I work tomorrow," I sigh; this only further solidifies the idea that being inseminated is destiny, and my only chance at having my greatest desire…well, _second _greatest desire come true. Caroline's face falls and she places a hand on my knee giving it a comforting squeeze. "Elena, it's okay. We'll figure it out. I'll see if Stefan can't set this up for Wednesday night."

"I'm not sure if I'll feel up to it," I admit. I mean, I've never had a procedure where the result was conceiving a child. The only other procedure I've had was a surgery where they had to re-break my arm because it didn't set the right way. I'm sure insemination won't hurt as bad, but then again, what do I know?

Caroline nods in agreement. "Then, we'll play it by ear. He's totally hot, Elena. I think you'll really like him."

"You said that already," I retort with a ghost of a smile as she looks down at her phone when it buzzes. She frowns, and I know she's about to cut our night short.

"Right. Well, like I said, he's a catch. But hey, I've gotta go. Stefan wants to play," she smirks mischievously. "We'll have to continue girls' night some other time! I'm glad I could tell you my news, and hear yours. I'll tell you, though…I'm not sure whose news is more impressive," she winks and I stand up to hug her.

"Yours," I reply. "Definitely yours."

"Mommy Gilbert," she smiles, pulling back and patting my arms as if she's _my_ mother. She laughs when I roll my eyes, and that's when I realize the gesture was to get that reaction from me. "I like the sound of that."

"I'm not anything yet," I correct, but my heart squeezes with the approval I knew she'd have for me and I tell her. "Go home to your fiancé."

Caroline bites her lip, bright-eyed and eager as she nods. She's out the door in a flash and I go back into the kitchen to prepare the tea I'd forgotten about.

* * *

After making my cup of tea, something I'd tried before, but had always sweetened with honey or German sugar, I nearly spit it out. Herbal tea? Gah! It's more like glorified mud water. I force myself to remember why I'm drinking this crap plain.

Baby.

I'm drinking this for the baby, trying to get a start on the healthy routine as soon as possible, even if it is only a two day head-start.

What? It counts.

I force it down and involuntarily shiver. I give up. As I get ready to pour the rest of the horrible drink down the sink, my cell phone starts to ring and I'm sure it's my doctor calling to confirm my appointment. Hurrying over to answer, I pick up the phone with an eager, "Hello?"

"_Hi, Miss Gilbert." _I'm psychic, apparently. _"This is Doctor Fell. I normally would have had one of my nurses call you, but is this a bad time?"_

"No, no, not at all." Is something wrong? "I was just drinking some tea."

"_Getting ready I see?"_ she says with a warm laugh over the phone and I smile eagerly. Good. Then I'm doing the right thing. _"I was just calling to confirm your appointment for Wednesday at two." _Right again.

"I'll be there!" I say a bit too quickly and wonder if she can hear my excitement. I wonder if my excitement's normal. I decide I don't care; I'm excited and I will let it show. She gives me an, _"I'll see you then,"_ and I hang up the phone.

In less than forty-eight hours, I'll be getting a procedure that's going to change my life forever. And ever and ever.

I have the urge to call Caroline, to tell her it's really happening, that I'm going to be mom, but I hold it back. She should be celebrating her own happiness tonight. And I'll be celebrating mine.

It's not like I can go to the bar for shots, or margaritas or whatever. _Maybe_…I look back at my tea kettle and grimace. I really hate that stuff…but yeah. I'll just add honey to it. It's a simple solution that still keeps the drink healthy but also makes that shit taste better.

* * *

I just had the procedure. I don't feel any different. "Should I be feeling any different?" I ask Doctor Fell who simply shakes her head as she stands up from the foot of the bed.

"You'll feel different in about a month, if the sperm took," she tells me. "Either with a late period or other tell-tale signs. If you want to help it along just keep your legs elevated." She reaches over, presses a button and suddenly I'm starting to see the ceiling as I'm being tilted backwards. "Just keep still for about fifteen minutes, give the little guys a better chance, and then change back into your clothes. You'll be free to go afterwards. Be sure let me know in a few weeks if we've been successful, or if we have to try again." She's still smiling her sweet smile at me and the second she leaves the room my excitement morphs into terror.

What if it doesn't take? What if the 'little guys' are too slow?

What if I just wasted all that money for nothing? I mean, I make a more than decent living. I'm a lawyer for crying out loud, but still. Money is money and I don't want to find out that I just wasted…

Holy shit, I need to stop. I'm panicking. No, dammit. The sperm _did_ take.I _am_ going to be a mother on the _first_ attempt because my body's phenomenal and it doesn't… it won't _need_ more than one insemination.

I check my phone and after twenty minutes (can't be too careful) have passed, I push a button to lower the bed, get out of it, put on my clothes and exit the office. "Thank you," I tell the receptionist before leaving.

* * *

I push the 'Down' button located by the elevator doors and wait for them to open. I don't have to wait long because a few seconds later, they're pulling apart, and I'm walking inside with my eyes on the floor. As I reach for the button with the number '1' on it, I hear a velvety voice that made my groins ache just two days before.

"Going down?"

I look behind me and smile, hoping it's not too desperate-looking. "Yes. Are you?"

A cheeky smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and I try not to melt. He gives a look of amusement by biting his lip and I'm sure I'm going to die. "If you want me to," he laughs and my eyes have to be popping out of my head with his bold remark. He laughs again with a twinkle in those brilliant oceanic eyes of his. "Yeah, I am. My shift's over, I finally get to go home," he tells me.

"You work here?" I ask, quite surprised.

What? He wasn't wearing a white coat, so how was I supposed to know?

Damon gives a nod. "Doctor Damon," he clarifies as he holds out his hand for me to shake. "Nice to meet you…again." His smile is nearly enough to take me out at the knees. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me."

"What?" I ask, my voice jumping an octave. "No, definitely not. I was," _getting impregnated by a guy I've never met, _"just leaving an appointment."

"An appointment," he repeated, his eyes dipping together. "Are you sick?"

"No," I shake my head. He looks worried, and his blue eyes are examining every inch of me. "I'm…I'm fine."

"Good," he smiles with a relieved expression. When the bell suddenly dings, he holds his hand out for me to go first.

_And he's a gentleman!_ The romantic in me squeals with delight.

Damon's following me out of the elevator, but before I can leave the building he grips me by the elbow. I turn around, and suddenly he's yanking his arm back as if I've burned him. "Uh…" he mutters, and then chuckles. "So, this is the second time in one week I've run into you –"

"First time was literal, and my fault," I interject with a sheepish smile, which produces a grin from him.

"Right…well, I know I said I'd call you, but since we're here, and we're both not busy…" he pauses, tilting his head at me. "You're not busy, are you?"

_No! No she's not!_ Romance screams and I'm shrugging. "Eh…I had plans with a friend later."

I'm lying. I'm so lying. I have plans with re-runs of _I Love Lucy _and a tub of Ben and Jerry's. This sexy doctor man is perfect: polite, charming, funny…I'm surprised he's even giving me the time of day, but holy crap I wasn't expecting this and I don't want to seem desperate.

"Oh," he frowns, but quickly masks it with a look of indifference. "Well, looks like you'll just have to wait for that phone call then, won't you?"

"Looks like it," I purr.

Did I…yeah. I actually purred. Was I trying to be sexy? What the hell? Welp, I'll be waiting for that phone call for a long ass time then because I just shot any hope of going out with Sexy-Doctor-Man straight to hell. I don't have a chance to see if I'm right, because I haul ass out of there before either of us can say anything more.

* * *

Alright, so Caroline's expecting me for dinner. My earlier words to Damon _were_ a lie…at the time. And then, thirty minutes later, she's calling me and saying, _"I have a surprise for you! Get your cute little booty over here because you're going to lose your mind! Oh, and there's a meal in it for you, too. Come over at seven. Dress up. Love you, bye!"_

I'm raising my hand to knock on her front door, and naturally she's opening it before I have a chance for my knuckles to meet the surface. "Hi!" she beams. "Come in, come in."

I walk in and instantly smell the most delicious aroma. She's leading me into the dining room and pouring a glass of champagne. Before I have the chance to tell her I may be pregnant, that I shouldn't be drinking any forms of alcohol, she's pouring me a glass of water with a lemon wedge hanging on the rim. "The champagne's for me. This is for you. You know, just in case," she winks.

My best friend, ladies and gentlemen.

I give her a grateful smile and she bends over to whisper in my ear. "Stefan's in the kitchen finishing up, but are you okay? How'd it go today?"

I nod with a shrug. "As well as it _could_ go, I guess? I don't know, I've never been art –"

"Hey, you," Stefan greets with a flash of teeth as he comes out with a handful of utensils. "It's been a minute since you've been over. How's it goin'?"

Why is he holding all those utensils? It's just the three of us and it looks like there are enough to feed four or five people. "Umm…yeah I've been busy. But good, I suppose. How've you been, Stefan?" I ask as he disappears into the kitchen to grab what I guess is the food.

"Fine," he calls from the other room. "Hey, Care, can you grab the garlic bread out of the oven? It should be ready and I don't want it to burn."

"Sure thing," she replies and then they're both coming into the dining room with enough food to feed an army.

"Are you sure there's enough for us?" I ask with enough sarcasm to drown a wimp. "There's no way we're going to be able to finish it all."

Stefan goes to open his mouth, but Caroline nudges him forcefully, her eyes igniting dangerously.

_What the hell is that about?_

"I like big portions," he answers instead of whatever I know he was going to say, and I'm narrowing my eyes at the blonde girl patting his arm. It's clear she's satisfied with his response. Caroline sticks her tongue at me.

Before I have a chance to call her out on it, to tell Caroline I know she's got something planned, the doorbell's ringing and Caroline's clapping her hands excitedly. Inwardly I'm groaning.

_Oh, no. N-n-no, no. _

She went through with it.

Caroline vanishes to answer the door and Stefan's smiling at me as he takes a seat kitty-corner from me. "Don't worry. My brother's a decent-enough guy, Elena. Besides, I wouldn't have let her go through with it if I thought for a second that this was a bad idea," he promises me and my stomach drops further. Stefan's not exactly the most strong-willed guy around – a total sweetheart, but the biggest push-over known to man.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, waiting for whoever Caroline thinks is my match made in heaven. "You can take a seat across from her," she tells him and, keeping my eyes closed, I blindly grab my water-filled champagne glass to take a sip. I'm going to kill her.

"Well, I'll be damned. Hello, again."

My eyes whip open and I'm staring. You have _got _to be kidding me! Sexy-Doctor-Man is Stefan's _brother?_ Well, the world must be as fucking small as they say, because holy shit.

I think I'm in shock right now.

Three times I've seen this guy. In less than a _week_? That has to be some kind of sign. I've never been one to believe in destiny, or fate, or any of that _'You're meant for me'_ bullshit. But…this is just a little too coincidental for my cynical heart.

I turn to look at Caroline and she's just smiling away, totally oblivious to the fact that I already know this guy. Until she blinks and sputters a few time as if it's finally clicking with her.

"Wait a second, Damon. Rewind, please. What do you mean by_ again?_ You two…you two _know _each other?" she asks him and he adjusts his placemat with an easy smile, like it's no big deal that we've met three times over the time span of what, seventy-two hours? Then again, he's probably used to women fawning over him and going crazy.

Stefan starts laughing and then Damon scoots out of his seat, following him into the kitchen. Caroline and I hear muttered whispers – _Really? They're gossiping_? – before she starts her own impromptu girl-session. "So…were you ever going to _tell_ me about meeting Damon, or?"

I give a shrug and shake my head, because, no. I wasn't planning on telling anybody about Damon. Other than his looks, and charm, and career, and…and…okay, dammit – he's perfect, but there was nothing to tell.

Nothing huge, anyway. Any _sane_ woman would've gone bat-shit crazy over seeing him – I'm one of them, no doubt– but after a few hours, I realized that our meeting was nothing special.

"He asked me for my number when I spilt hot coffee on him the other day. There wasn't much to report."

"You drenched him in coffee? Smooth, Elena," Caroline winked, giggling. "Real smooth."

"I hope you're hungry, ladies," Stefan says, right on cue, as he brings out two more glasses of champagne – I'm assuming they were for himself and Damon. He goes to set one in front of his plate, which is across from his fiancée's, who's seated next to me, and the other glass goes…yep right in front of Damon's plate. I avoid his gaze like the plague, silently cursing myself for making this so awkward.

We all sit at the mahogany table to enjoy our meal when Caroline speaks up. "I think, in my opinion, there is way, _way_ too much tension in this room. Where's that knife?" she giggles.

"Tension?" Damon smirks. "Nah. There's no tension."

_Oh, so he's got jokes._

Well, at least he's making light of the situation…even though there isn't one. His eyes find mine and I'm stupidly helpless to resist staring into his.

Blue. His eyes are so fucking blue!

"So," he says to my blonde friend as she stabs at fettuccine noodles with her fork before swirling it neatly with a spoon. "I think you forgot about Elena."

"Hmm?" I ask, and I'm confused as to what he's referring to. "Forgot about me? What do you mean?"

"You're stuck with water while the rest of us are sipping champagne." He makes a move to get out of his seat and says, "That's hardly fair. I'll go pour you a glass."

"No!" Damon blinks at me in surprise and I feel my cheeks burn with heat. I know I'm blushing now, and I run a hand through my hair. "I mean…I just…I don't feel like drinking tonight, that's all."

Damon relaxes into his chair with a perplexed expression. He doesn't need to know anything. We barely know each other. _That_ is none of his business. I look at Caroline, praying she hasn't told Stefan and she shakes her head. Relief washes over me and I take mercy on her - I'm not going to kill her anymore.

"Probably prefer scalding coffee, huh?" Damon says, winking at me and I'm thankful I'm already seated because my knees would've buckled at the action, I'm sure of it.

"I still can't believe you guys know each other," Stefan chuckles, taking a bite of his dinner. Damon and I nod in response because we're both…well, we're both having trouble taking our eyes off each other.

Caroline is sipping her champagne and she looks at me knowingly. I know that look. _"Why aren't you speaking to him more?"_ she's scolding me with her stare and I look back at her, telling her, _"Because I don't know how the hell to act around him!"_

We've always been able to communicate this way; we know each other so well we can tell how the others' feeling just by looking at each other. Then again, we've been the best of friends since we were in the sandbox, so…I guess, naturally we'd start to pick up on each others' tells.

* * *

After dinner, Stefan and Caroline insist we stay seated so that they can clean up. I drink down the rest of my lemon-soaked water and when I look up, Damon's eyes are still locked on mine. "What?" I finally ask, although my voice is quiet.

His gaze softens and he scoots out of his seat, before gesturing for me to follow him out the front door. I choose to listen to him – like there's any other choice I'd _want_ to make – and when the door closes with a soft _click_, I realize I can finally breathe. The fresh air is instantly relieving and I don't feel trapped anymore.

"My brother and Caroline…they're something else, aren't they?" he says, chuckling and I look at him to find him gripping the brick wall located outside Caroline's door.

"They didn't know," I mutter beneath my breath as he turns to face me.

"No, but they didn't make the situation any less awkward once they did."

"No," I agree. "But then again, I probably made it too awkward to fix."

He's shaking his head, laughing a deep-throated laugh. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I want to know what he finds so funny. "Well, I don't know about you," he grins, "But I think I'm about ready to head out of here."

"Yeah?" I say, frowning when Damon opens the door and heads back inside. He waits before I'm in the house to close the door and then I see him head back over to the Table of Unbearable Awkwardness. He slips his jacket off the back of his chair and puts it on.

"Stef! Blondie!" Damon calls. His brother and my best friend enter the dining room with their arms around each other. "I'm heading out. Thanks for dinner."

Caroline doesn't like that. Twisting her head, she automatically protests with a, "But –"

I shake my head at her just drastically enough so that she can see, but small enough so that the men hopefully don't notice. She shuts her mouth and sighs in obvious frustration.

"Yeah, it's been an eventful night, but I've got an early shift tomorrow." Damon turns to leave, opens the door and both Stefan and Caroline are giving me apologetic looks – they're looks of pity. Like, 'sorry it didn't work out with this one, either.'

You see, _this_ is why I'm glad I did this artificial insemination thing. I don't need a man and the disappointments that come along with him. I don't –

"Need a ride?" I suddenly hear and I see he's smirking at me, gesturing to his blue Camaro from the foyer. I hesitate for all of a second, but a tiny voice screams at me.

_Screw your pride! Go with him! _

My heart skips a beat and even though I drove here, I swallow and nod. He walks out the door and I glance at the couple who are looking just as confused as me. But then Stefan gives a reassuring smile and Caroline gives me two thumbs up, beaming and bouncing in excitement. She shoos me out the door with a tap on my bum and whispers, "You two behave."

A giggle erupts from her when I respond. "Caroline," I hiss, hoping Damon hasn't heard us.

I close the door behind me and as we walk over to the car, his hand grazes the small of my back and I nearly jump out of my skin. The gesture sets the area he's touched on fire and I take in a sharp breath.

"You okay?" he asks, removing his hand and I feel the loss of heat to my displeasure. I nod and when I go to open the passenger door, he smacks my hand away. "I got it," he smiles, reaching over to pull it open, and holds a hand out for me to take. When I slip my hand into his to climb in, I notice the fit is perfect.

_Awwwe_, the romantic in me sighs and I shake her off. I don't need her getting in the middle of this.

* * *

The drive to my house wasn't awkward in the slightest. After giving him the directions to my house, Damon made small talk with one hand on the wheel and his free arm lounging carelessly on the armrest in between. Every now and then I'd catch his eye and I'd snap my attention back to the road. Sneaking a peek at him, carefully, I saw a corner of his lip turn upwards as if he was pleased with himself for causing my cheeks to blush again. Every time he looks at me, the hairs on my neck stand straight up. The windows were rolled down, creating a cool breeze through the car. I cross my arms over my chest and shiver.

"Cold?" he asks and I give a small nod. It's a little cold, but that's not the only reason for my reaction. He quickly rolls up the windows and holds his hand out to me, again. "Here," he says with his eyes still on the road and I don't make a move. "If you want to warm up, this is one of the best ways. Here," he repeats, wiggling his fingers and I give in, placing my hand in his and once again noticing the fit.

"Better?" he asks after a few minutes, stroking his thumb over mine.

"All toasty," I say with a roll of my eyes and he gives me a crooked smile.

He doesn't pull his hand from mine and I don't remove mine either. It feels good.

"See?" he asks lightly with a gentle squeeze. "I don't bite." I giggle and he looks at me. I give him a confused look, and he's smiling – smirk-free; it's real. "I like you."

"What?"

"You're warm."

"…Because you're holding my hand and the heat's on," I quip and he laughs again.

"You've got a sense of humor. You know how to laugh," he says.

Much too soon I realize I'm home and he's pulling into my driveway. "This was fun," he says after pushing the gear shift into 'Park' and looks at me again. "Not the way I thought our first date would go, but it was something."

_Something?_ "Yeah," I say and he grins at me.

"So…"

"So..." he repeats. _Okay…_ I stare at him, waiting for him to continue and his brow shoots upward, his sideways smile still in place.

"What?"

With an almost sad look in his eyes he tells me, "You're going to have to get out of my car if you expect me to –"

The next thing I know I'm grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Holy shit. I'm not sure what just came over me, but it doesn't matter because he's kissing me back. His lips feel so, so good against mine; they're soft and his lower lip is deliciously plump and I can't help but to nibble at it. The space in which this is happening is small, and when his hands cup my neck to deepen the kiss, lust explodes, blasting us both with the force of its shock waves.

He groans and soon I'm unclicking my seatbelt, he's unclicking his and then he's gone.

I'm left panting and before I know it, my door's being ripped opened and he's pulling me out of the car. After shutting it forcefully, he's pushing me against the passenger door and our lips clash again. I moan into his mouth, feeling his hands go from cupping my face to cupping my ass.

_You want him, dammit!_ I manage to breathlessly say, "I don't want you to go yet."

"Good," he gets out before swirling his tongue with mine. "I'm not ready to leave."

I'm placing my fingers into the loops of his jeans, dragging him backwards up the walkway to my front door. I try to continue kissing him while I fumble in my purse for my house-keys, but there's so much shit in there I have to wrench my mouth away, much to my disappointment. That doesn't stop Damon though, because his mouth continues placing scalding kisses along my neck and collar bone, causing me to shiver and I can feel his smirk against my skin. After finally finding the damn thing and opening the door, Damon's hands are diving into my hair. He's kicking the door shut and moving to push me against the nearest wall.

I let him have his wicked way with me.

He presses himself into me, continuing his relentless kisses. I feel his bulge. _You want that, too! _ I banish my inner romantic, the one that's craving a man's touch, so that I can think on my own for once. "Please," I beg when his fingers caress the undersides of my breasts.

"Where's your bedroom?" he mumbles against my lips with a squeeze of my ass; his fingers press into my skin and I can't answer because his tongue is tracing lines along my lower lips and once again begging for entrance. Who am I to deny its entry? He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his torso. One of his hands is tangled in my hair and the other arm is wrapping securely around my waist.

He's moving me away from the wall and stumbling into every chair, lamp, table, and corner until we finally reach my room and I whisper, "Here."

"Do you," he asks in between hot pecks along my jaw, "live alone?"

"Yes," I pant, already longing for his burning touch when he lays me down on the bed to remove his shirt.

"Good," he breathes, reaching to unfasten the first button. By the time his shirt is off, I'm swallowing thickly at the sight of his chiseled body. "Because I'm going to make you scream."

_Holy shit! _

* * *

_AN: So here it is: the first chapter! If you liked this, or are intrigued to read more then please share your thoughts by leaving a review! ~Kate  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:**_ Are you serious? Talk about a season premiere, huh? Damon is back and he's done with Elena's choices. Michael killed it as Klaus, and Elena's transition scenes and her GOING ALL SPIDERMONKEY ON DAMON was awesome. Stelena was forced as hell and leaves me hopeful they'll be ending soon. Now, onto the story. I can't believe the response to the first chapter. Thank you so much! This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I expected, so you may want to get comfortable. I hope you will continue to leave your feedback on this little experiment of mine. I love hearing them. We're picking up right where we left off! ;) ~Kate_

**PS:**_ Sending a giant thank you to Morgan for making Elena's ramblings coherent and for the great beta work! Love you, hon.  
_

* * *

_"Do you," he asks in between hot pecks along my jaw, "live alone?"_

_"Yes," I pant, already longing for his burning touch when he lays me down on the bed to remove his shirt._

_"Good," he breathes, reaching to unfasten the first button. By the time his shirt is off, I'm swallowing thickly at the sight of his chiseled body. "Because I'm going to make you scream."_

Holy shit!

My insides clench together at his words, the way his voice is low and husky and dripping with sex and oh my _God_ I want him.

I sit up to remove my clothes but remember I'm wearing my black cocktail dress. I groan and Damon lets out a husky chuckle after seeing me struggle to get out of it. I glare at him and after he removes his shirt, he beckons me with a 'come hither' motion and when I get out of bed to meet him, his fingers graze my hips to turn me around. "You look stunning in this dress," he quietly mutters along my shoulders, causing the hairs on my neck to once again stand on end. I hear the slow _zzzziipp_ of my zipper and Romance is doing cartwheels in my head; she and Damon are both making me dizzy.

He's pulling the zipper at a tantalizing, maddening pace, nipping my shoulder before murmuring, "I bet you'll look even better out of it."

If my panties weren't soaked before, they sure as hell are now.

His fingers dance along the base of my spine and goosebumps prickle my skin. I turn around to face him, completely bare save my black, lace underwear. Damon looks speechless but his bright eyes speak a thousand words before turning stormy. I'm pretty sure I'm reading them right.

He leans forward, his hands traveling lower and kisses me again. _Good God_, it's a kiss that has the power to make me a spineless jellyfish, even though his lips are as tender and soft as a rose. But this gentle, sweet kiss quickly intensifies and the next thing I know my surroundings are tilting and my back's being pressed into the mattress as his mouth moves from my lips to in between my heaving chest.

Damon's tongue slides over one of the peaks of my breasts, working it into a tight bud. He moves to lavish the other and I feel like I'm going to burst. Another move like that and I'm going to be coming way before I'd like to. Thankfully he pulls his mouth away, trailing lower and lower until he's at the apex of my thighs, setting my legs to rest on his shoulders kissing me where I want him most and then he threatens to tease me by blowing air against my nether lips, and I whimper.

"Don't even think about it," I hiss because honestly, I'm already too wound up and we _both_ want to get to where the real fun begins. His nibbling, suckling and grinding of his teeth against me quickly send me spiraling over the edge as I grip his hair to press him closer to my pulsing center.

Moving his way back up as I try to steal back my breath, he reaches in between us to play with my bundle of nerves again and I jump; his touch has me realizing he worked me more than I originally thought and I'm sensitive. "If I don't do this, you'll be sorry. Trust me," he warns as he continues to play with me, turning that pain into pleasure again. And then he pulls away, moving to remove his dark-wash jeans. My clit was on fire where his fingers made contact and I'm craving it the second it's gone. "Oh, come on," I groan. "I was right there."

Damon chuckles, giving me a smug smirk and bites his lip to stifle his laughter.

Five seconds later, Damon's climbing on top of me, coaxing me open with a simple nudge of his knee, and my legs splay open, eager and waiting as he returns to his previous ministrations, making me grip his strong biceps while our tongues fight for dominance. I cry out in pleasure, thanks to his magical hand and he's suddenly letting out an annoyed hiss.

"What?" I ask breathlessly, swallowing thickly. My pulse is hammering simultaneously in rhythm with the heart inside my chest. "What's wrong?"

Raggedly and with an irritated tone, he says. "I left my condoms in the car."

_Shit! _Romance is snarling, but I'm reminding her that the procedure took – and it did, because I'm refusing to let pessimism get in the way of anything, especially this unbelievably gorgeous man that is mine for the night.

I reach up to kiss him and try to pull him back, but he pulls away. "I'm not doing this without protection," he says roughly and I'm nodding before he can finish his statement.

"Trust me, I'm covered," I breathe, frustrated when he doesn't move right away. He's hesitant, but when I arch against him, rolling my hips against his bulge, that's all the prompting he needs. Damon's yet again hovering over my still-shuddering body. He's bracing himself on his elbows, staring at me intently and I yank his face down to meet mine. My tongue delves into his mouth and his hand slips underneath me.

Damon lowers himself and with a slight adjustment on his end, I'm being filled to the hilt; his mouth silences my immediate moan. My back arcs against his chest, and I feel one of his hands gripping my ass. He waits for me to accommodate him and when I roll my hips in a circular motion – _shit, he feels good –_ he groans into my mouth and takes that as a sign to start moving. "God, you're tight," he pants after one or two slow thrusts.

_Well, I haven't had sex in two years – so._

Pushing that thought aside, I wrap my legs around him, pulling Damon as close as humanly possible and while we're thrusting together, matching each other's movements, I flick my tongue against his. He shifts so that he's on his knees and cups my ass to hold me up. "Fuck! Elena," he pants into the hollow of my neck and hearing him say my name with that tone of need… it nearly sends me into my second orgasm. His tongue slides in a dizzying pleasure from my neck to my jaw to my mouth and I open mine willingly to accept his soft muscle, tasting myself on it.

He switches angles; changing the position of his leg just enough so that he enters me deeper, and I cry out, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck as his thrusts become stronger, more aggressive. "Oh, God." The strength of his movements is incredible but I need speed. "Damon," I pant. "Faster."

His quick thrusts increase, and our sweat-slicked stomachs are sliding against each other; his hard cock plunges into me, hitting the sensitive bud that every girl wishes their partner would pay more attention to, again and again.

"A lit-a little more," I say, not caring that I'm stuttering like an idiot as he slams into me. It makes me bite my lip so hard when I reach paradise that I draw blood. He gives a few more pumps and follows me into bliss, collapsing on top of me with a shaky laugh.

I surprise myself when I start laughing too, still gasping for air as I wipe my damp hair off my forehead. "Holy shit."

Damon lays there on top of me, panting for a good thirty seconds before looking up at me with a lazy, post-orgasmic grin. He kisses my breast before pulling out and rolling off of me. Flopping beside me, he whistles. "Well, that escalated quickly," he deadpans…and then laughs again.

_Shit._ He's laughing? What is that supposed to mean? Does he regret it? What if he thinks I do this all the time with guys? "I never do this," I utter breathily once I'm sure I can form a coherent sentence. "I swear I've never done this before."

He gives me a look with a raised brow, and I can tell he's searching for the words. "Done this or…_done_ this?" he finally asks with worry and my eyes widen.

"Damon, I've slept with other people! I just meant I don't normally sleep with a guy on the first date," Would you call a blind date with someone you already met a date?

Or would you call it a coincidental reunion followed by shameless fucking?

"Nope," he replies with a shake of his head, bringing me out of my thoughts. "I've changed my mind; not a date. This was not a date."

"Oh."

_Fuck,_ the romantic inside grumbles, clutching at her chest melodramatically as if he just ripped her heart out.

"Not a real one, anyway. Because," Damon continues softly, "If this _had_ been a date. I would have taken you out on a proper one – _without_ my brother and eccentric sister-in-law."

_Oh, yay! Never mind, _Romance squeals, clapping her hands and she's content with realizing her mistake.

I pull the sheets up to my chest and gulp when they slide off of Damon's abdominal muscles. He's staring at me again, and it's hard to keep myself from drowning in the blue depths of his eyes. I'm nearly caught in the riptide of his gaze a few times before he ceases his scrutiny.

Rolling onto his side, he props himself up with his elbow and asks, "So, how about it?"

"What?"

"Would you like to go on a real date?"

_YES, _Romance shouts. _Say yes, dammit! _She's jumping up and down and waving her arms for me to see her demand.

There are…_so_ many things I want to tell him. I want to tell him yes – that much is obvious. I also want to tell him that if it turns out the insemination procedure worked (and I strongly believe it has), he could be signing up for a lot more than he bargained for and I want to –

_WILL YOU SHUT UP?_ My inner-romantic cries. _Carpe diem, bitch!_

I give in! She's got a point. Who knows if this thing will go anywhere, anyway? After all, it _is _just a date.

With a doctor.

A_ sexy_ doctor.

Who happens to be _great_ in bed.

I take my chances and nod."Okay," I tell him, giving him a smile and pushing a strand of hair out of my eyes and behind my ear.

"Great." He leans over, kisses me on the cheek and rolls onto his other side. "I'll see you in the morning, then. Goodnight, Elena."

Wha-okay. Sure. Feel free to sleep in my bed. Guess I don't have to worry about him using me for a hit-it-and-quit-it piece of ass. "Goodnight, Damon,"_ you Sexy-Doctor-Man._

* * *

It's been three weeks and Damon hasn't contacted me since the night I went all spider-monkey on him. I thought that night was pretty spectacular, but maybe he didn't enjoy it as much? Oh, who the hell am I kidding? We were both shuddering from spectacular orgasms. It can't be because he was left unsatisfied. But, as annoying as it is, I'm sure I'll find someone else to play with.

Probably.

Okay, it's really not all that likely _but _I can't worry about my Damon Dilemma because I'm too busy. I've been swamped with work; I've got a divorce case where the father is seeking full custody because the mother's apparently been negligent, and while I've been using this case as a distraction from Damon, my focus kind of goes to hell when I think about the possibility that he's avoiding me.

If that's the case, then fuck him. I deserve better.

While my work life is a perpetual hell, and my love life – right, _what_ love life? – is quickly heading that way, there's someone whose life is very near perfect.

Speaking of my bubbly best friend, I realize I haven't seen Caroline in a little over a week. This is strange, but I'll just have to get used to it since she's about to become Mrs. Stefan Salvatore. She's been busy _getting_ busy with her new fiancé. I can't really blame her for that, but I miss the girl for crying out loud. I pull out my cell and shoot her a text.

_New Message:_

_To Care BFForbes: Are you still alive?_

She responds almost immediately.

_New Message:_

_From Care BFForbes: I am alive in every way, Elena. ;) LOL I miss you. Girls' Afternoon in say…1 hour?_

_New Message:_

_To Care BFForbes: Sounds good to me!_

Because, really. I can afford to forget about my case for sixty minutes while my best friend helps me forget about the one night stand that is ticking me off.

* * *

Caroline picks me up and tells the cab driver we need to go to the mall. "I need better lingerie."

"_Better_ lingerie?" I giggle. "Caroline, you just bought fiive push-up bras and matching panties last month!"

"Exactly! I need to revamp my underwear drawer." _Oh, Caroline…_ She crosses her arms and gives a shrug. "And I can never have enough lace in said drawer, so."

_She makes a good point. _When we finally step through the giant glass doors, Caroline all but drags me to Victoria's Secret as we beeline through the crowded mall.

"Here," she says handing me a matching set of indigo lace after trying on multiple sets herself. "This one doesn't fit me, unfortunately. It's too big in the hips and too small in the breast area. It'll fit you, though." Great. I get to try on lingerie, Caroline will force me to buy it – and then I'll have sexy underwear with no one to show it off to.

* * *

It's been nearly eight weeks since my romp in the sack with Damon and I am _pissed_ to say the least_._ I knew I shouldn't have bothered with him. He was too good to be true. My optimistic side says, _There has to be a solid reason for why he hasn't called__. Maybe he got caught up at work. Maybe something happened._

And then Romance – she's a little bitter over the ordeal– gives me _her _opinion. _Yeah. Something happened alright – it's called an epiphany and he realized he wanted nothing to do with you._

My stomach flips both at the disappointment and at the morning sickness I've been experiencing for the last three days. I'm pregnant. I just know it; I can feel it in my soul. I know I'm pregnant. I've been testing it. With an actual test – obviously, but also with other methods. I only ever feel sick basically every hour of the day, and my sense of smell has amplified. Screw the herbal tea. The only tea my stomach will allow is peppermint.

Oh, and my boobs are huge. And they hurt like a bitch.

All that, and I'm ridiculously late.

I've already called Doctor Fell, who said I should make an appointment with an obstetrician. So I did; I told the nurse everything that's been going on and she made an appointment for today. It's in about an hour actually.

Normally, I would have asked Caroline to accompany me, but I figured I'd just go on my own like I did with the procedure nearly two months ago. She really wanted to – actually, she begged – but after I told her she couldn't come, she demanded that I come over the moment I found out. _"We can either celebrate or eat a tub of Ben and Jerry's!" _she'd squealed.

Again: my best friend, everyone.

I don't bother with going to Bree's today. I'm too wired for one, and just thinking about blueberries causes my stomach to roll.

Instead, I head straight to the doctor's office. Once again, after checking in with the receptionist, I'm sitting in the waiting room, impatiently waiting for my name to be called. My knees are bouncing up and down and I'm wringing my hands anxiously because I just want someone to confirm what I already know.

I look at the coffee table in front of me and notice they've put out new magazines. One of them is titled, _How to Cope with Morning Sickness in the First Trimester._ Awe. How sweet. But I don't even smile, because I know my subconscious is going to spew something snarky. Like clockwork, she does.

_It doesn't matter! S'not gonna help!_ _We've got our fixes for that BS!_

We already figured out what helps me through: peppermint tea, deep breaths, and slow movements.

"Elena Gilbert?"

My head snaps up and I follow the tiny redhead inside. She guides me to the familiar vinyl bed, albeit in a different room, and hands me a gown. I waste zero time in stripping myself and changing into the plaid, cotton, ugly dress-thing. I sit back down, lay back, place my feet in the stirrups and wait.

Closing my eyes, I try to remind myself to stay calm. I've read that stress can ruin everything in the blink of an eye, and I won't let myself miscarry. I'll be careful.

When I hear a soft knock on the door, I sit up. "Come in," I tell them and the first thing I see is someone peeking their head through the door with raven-black hair and striking blue eyes. He's giving me a look that I can't quite place with one of his feet in the door, and staring at me and…and…

Oh…my…_God._

It can't be.

"Damon?" He finally snaps out of whatever trance he's caught in and enters the room, his eyes immediately shooting down to scan his clipboard. My mind is one hell of a clusterfuck as I manage to ask. "You…_you're_ my OB/GYN?"

He clears his throat and finally lifts his gaze to mine. His eyes are hard and he looks angry.

_Why the hell are YOU angry? _He shouldn't be angry. He was the one who didn't call me!

Damon scoffs, jotting something down before haphazardly tossing his chart on the counter. "Looks that way, doesn't it?" He then goes to leans against it and crosses his arms indignantly, staring at me with a stony gaze.

"I didn't know you were an obste–"

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asks accusatorily and my mouth snaps shut at his interruption. It opens to speak and then it closes again, no words capable of coming out. I don't know what to say.

He's _really_ angry.

And besides, what am I _supposed_ to say? 'Oh, you know. I used some pregnant guy's sperm to give me a baby. Then I met you and we had sex. I'm probably pregnant, but it's probably not yours. Don't worry about it.'

Dodging his accusing question, I shoot out one of my own. "Were you ever going to _call_ me?" Honestly, I really don't care – not anymore. I've moved on, but I hate the fact he used me for sex. He'd soundlessly slipped out of my bed and home before I woke up. "Or was I just a one-night deal?"

"Don't change the subject," he barks.

"It's not like I had your number, anyway! You never gave me yours, but I sure as hell gave you mine. So what happened?" I press. "I wasn't good enough that night, or what?" I know this isn't the case, but whatever.

"Elena," he finally sighs and his thumb and index finger pinch the bridge of his nose. "It's not you, okay? I've been busy."

Did he just? Yeah. He just… "Wow, two methods _straight_ out of the book. I'll have to give you a two for ingenuity, though an eight for honesty." I laugh bitterly. "Because, you're basically saying that you wanted nothing more to do with me than using me for a late night booty call. Well done, Salvatore."

He rolls up the sleeves of his white lab coat and growls, "Elena, I'm an obstetrician, a doctor. I'm constantly working long shifts and I'm always on-call. Forgive me for forgetting about a brunette who I apparently got pregnant after one night together." His voice is dripping with sarcasm.

There's no way this is going to work. He can't be my doctor. I swallow hard, climbing off the bed and mutter, "I think this is a conflict of interest."

"I'd say so," he agrees. "But, Elena…"

"_What?_" I ask. I don't need or want any excuses. _Get me another doctor!_ my subconscious screams, but I shush her. I want to hear what he has to say and it had better be good. Damon peels himself from the counter and approaches me. His eyes are searching and they drop to examine my body. "They need better outfits, don't you think?"

I look up to meet his gaze and am met with soft eyes. A small smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth as he chuckles. "Yeah; I'll make sure they change the material from cotton to satin." His eyes twinkle with amusement and then he shrugs. "Look, life has been hectic lately. The night I left your house, I was called in to deliver triplets." That would explain why he was gone before sunrise. "I slept the majority of the day after. _Then _I had to work a double, and right before my shift ended one of my co-workers – a rookie, mind you – got sick during the delivery and I was forced to cover for him. It's been that sort of shit for the better part of two months, Elena."

"Busy man," I whisper, dropping my gaze. So, he wasn't lying…

"Very busy." He pauses, inhaling deeply. He lets out a sharp breath and shakes his head at me. "You could have found me, you know. You could have told me you thought you were pregnant."

"I didn't know you were an OB/GYN," I retort and he gives me a pointed look...as if he's a master scolding his puppy or something.

"You knew I worked in the building. You knew I was a doctor. _And_ you knew my name after Caroline's dinner. 'Salvatore.' That's all you had to say and someone would have brought you to me. Better yet, you could have asked Caroline for my number. She _is_ marrying my brother."

I shrug and play with the hem of my gown. "Well, it looks like fate has a cruel sense of humor and brought me to you instead." I don't look at him, but he wants my attention apparently because his finger tucks under my chin, lifting my head and my eyes on his. Damn his hypnotic gaze.

"I don't regret that night," he says quietly, "And you weren't supposed to be a one-night deal."

Whatever stupor I was in, I'm instantly jolted out of it with those words. What? My brow shoots upward and I speak with incredulity. "Oh, no?"

"No." He is resolute. "I meant it when I said I liked you and asked you to go out with me."

_He said 'asked'. Past-tense! _Romance bawls._ You ruined everything, lady! I hate you,_ she grumbles to me, crosses her arms angrily and I tell her to shut the hell up. She'll get over it.

"Damon, I could be pregnant. I doubt you'll want to stick around if I am. And _if_ I am, it's not like we're serious or anything; you wouldn't be obligated to the baby." _It's not even yours. It's Mr. Smith__'s__ or whoever gave me his sperm. _

Besides, I'm not even sure if I'd accept it if he offered that date again. Busy or not, if you really care about someone, you _make_ time. You always make time.

His jaw drops open, looking stunned before blinking and furrowing his eyebrows. "Thanks for letting me off the hook," he hisses and it seems I've offended him. I don't know why he feels that way because there's no way this child could be his in the first place. He hands me a cup, barely waiting long enough for me to take it from him.

"What's this?"

"I need a urine sample."

"Why?"

"Would you just do what I say?" he questions and my face burns with heat. I clamp the gown closed so my ass isn't showing, slide off the bed, and go to the restroom down the hall.

* * *

After I finish and come back into the room, he motions for me to hand him the cup, which I do. When a nurse comes to pick it up, she quickly disappears to run the test, and it's once again just the two of us. Grabbing the stool from the corner of the room, he wheels his way to the foot of my bed. "Feet in the stirrups," he demands and I quickly agree, climbing onto the noisy wax paper that's sprawled across the vinyl material.

As he reaches for a strange-looking device after draping a cloth over my legs, my knees come together. I blush and quickly say, "Maybe I should have someone else do this. I think someone else should do this."

"Would you relax?" Damon puts on his gloves and then stretches out his fingers to make sure they're on good and tight. "It's nothing I haven't seen before." He places his hands on my shins and, with a light pressure, pulls them apart. "There's no reason we can't be professional about this."

Professional. He thinks we can be _professional? _

A man I slept with is now my baby's doctor. I fight to keep my breathing even when reaches down to pry my nether lips apart. It shouldn't feel good, but it does. "What are you doing?" I ask harshly.

"I need to do an ultrasound. This one is vaginal; it's stronger than an abdominal one and will be able to pick up something this early if you are pregnant." He takes the little machine and goes to insert it. I bite my lip, feeling everything clench shut and pain surge through me. He sighs. "It won't hurt if you just relax."

"Hard to relax when I'm tense like this."

Suddenly his eyes darken as he says smugly, "I can help with that." He sets the device beside me and his hands disappear under the sheet. _Oh, my…_ Damon's fingers are dancing along the insides of my thighs and one of them brushes along my slit.

"Do…do you," I stumble over my words, reveling in the feeling of his fingers playing with me again. "Do you do this with all your patients?"

"Certainly not," he smirks. "You're the only one." A finger slips into my warm center and I bite back a cry as he rolls his thumb over my clit. "Are you feeling better yet?" I gulp in response, unable to speak because of all the sensations I'm feeling and he pinches my bundle of nerves. "You're not still mad at me, are you?"

I bite my lip, shaking my head.

"Answer me."

"N-not if you keep that up," I pant and he's back to giving me pleasure. Once I'm squirming under his touch, heaving with my release, Damon grabs the device and easily guides it in; I don't even chastise him for getting me off in an exam room because twenty seconds later he's pointing to the screen. I look up at it, and he tells me where it is so that I can see it. I finally do, and everything stops. Time stops, my thoughts stop, save for the fact that my dream is finally going to come true.

I'm going to be a mother.

Five minutes pass as we both stare at the screen. Eventually, Damon snaps out of it, clearing his throat and reverts back to Doctor-mode. "We'll have to get you set up with prenatal vitamins, and then…"

"Damon."

"We'll have to take a few more tests," he continues, pretending not to hear me call him by his first name as he peels off his gloves.

"Damon!"

"But everything looks good so far." God, I hate that formal tone he's using with me.

"Doctor Salvatore!"

He looks at me then, and I can't quite figure out why he's looking at me the way he is. "Yes, Elena?"

"I'm pregnant…and you're my doctor."

"Mhmm," he nods waiting for me to add more, but I don't. "And?"

"Seriously?" I breathe and he shrugs. How can he be so flippant with this?

He places his hands into his pockets and crosses an ankle over the other as he leans against the counter. "What? This doesn't change anything. I'm not backing out on anything."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to be there for you."

He's… "You don't have to –"

"It's my responsibility," he says firmly, his voice overlapping mine. "I shouldn't have slept with you without a condom. It was reckless and irresponsible, Elena. I –"

"Damon, the baby's not yours!" With those words he freezes in his tracks, looking at me disbelievingly. I let out a sharp breath. "Remember that day we met, and I told you I'd just come from an appointment?" He gives a small, slow nod and I tell him, "Well. _That's_ what I was doing. I was with Doctor Fell, seeing if I was eligible to be artificially inseminated. And that day Caroline and Stefan set up our blind date with them? I had the procedure done."

His face pales. "That…that was the same night…"

"Yeah," I nod. "That was the night we slept together."

"So…wait a second," he halts my words with a scrunched face of confusion. "You'd been artificially inseminated…but, Elena, you told me you had it covered. I thought you meant you were on birth control!" I bite my lower lip and his blue eyes widen drastically with my act. "Please don't tell me we had sex without any protection whatsoever." He knows we didn't, but I can see the denial is beginning to set in.

I look away from him but my response is all he needs.

"How do you know the procedure even took?" His voice rises when he asks. "How do you know you're pregnant with some stranger off the street's baby and not mine?"

I shake my head to disarm his worries. "Trust me. I really think this is from the sperm donor, not you. I mean –"

"You lied to me."

"I was horny, okay?" I snap. "You were polite and charming, and you were wooing me and we were clicking and then you kissed me and it felt good and then you kissed my breasts and that felt _great_, and I don't know, okay? I panicked!" My words come out so fast and garbled, I'm not sure he caught it all.

"And in the midst of your panic, I may have gotten you pregnant!"

"You didn't! I was already pregnant!"

"You can't be sure of that," he hisses, trying to keep his voice under control because even though we're alone, we're still in a very public place where any nurse can walk in. "Not until there's a paternity test done, you can't know."

I want to rip my hair out. He wants to see if my baby is his? I know I should be happy about it, especially with Romance poking me saying, _"He cares about you, dumbass! Let him in!"_

I rub my face over my hands and sigh. "Even if it turns out to be yours…you _don't _have to stick around, Damon."

"I'd _want _to. Like I said, it's my own fault for inflicting this on you."

Wait.

"Fault?" I question, and my eyebrows dip together. So do his. "If it turns out to be yours, and you're not happy then…that's one thing. But it seems to me like you've had earphones on for the last five minutes. I was artificially inseminated, Damon. I _want_ a baby. Being impregnated isn't the same as contracting a disease," I point out irritably. "You wouldn't be 'inflicting' anything on me. It'd be a gift."

He's speechless and I'm not sure whether to take it as a good or a bad sign, but my mind's racing and he needs to hear it all.

"If you want nothing to do with the baby, fine. If you want everything to do with it – should it turn out to be yours – _fine_. But do _not_ think that for one _second_ that I find this pregnancy a problem, or a mistake, or whatever it is that you're alluding to."

_Go, Mommy! _My subconscious is applauding me, and I'm offered a second to feel proud before a new feeling washes over me. My stomach's catching up as if it's experiencing motion sickness due to the recent rollercoaster of my thoughts and feelings. It tosses and before I know it, I'm launching myself from the bed and curling my fingers around the tiny sink to empty the contents of my stomach.

"Elena," a velvety voice says, but it's tinged with pity…or maybe it's worry. Whatever, I don't really have the time to decipher his tone because another wave of nausea hits and I'm retching again. I feel the hair hanging around my face lighten and then disappear completely, enhanced by comforting circles being rubbed against my back as I heave.

I'm barely able to choke out a "thank you," before I throw up again. After I feel I'm finished, I continue to grip the countertop, staying close because honestly I'm afraid of getting sick again.

"Think you're done?" Damon asks and I give a small nod.

My throat burns, but I hoarsely tell him, "Yeah…yeah, I think so." I turn on the faucet, cupping my hands under the run of water to rinse out my mouth.

"That should end around the twelve week mark."

"Great. About another month then," I quip and he snorts.

"Just a few more weeks," he winks when I give him a look.

_WINK AGAIN! _Romance screams and I'm biting back a smile, grateful that I'm leaning against the counter. She's got a point, yet again. His facial expressions literally make me weak in the knees. "Am I good to go? You said there were more tests..."

"There are," he nods and it's only then I realize how close he's standing. He pushes matted hair off of my face. "You look like you could use some rest. We'll figure out another time for you to come in this week." His attitude has completely flipped.

_He confuses me._

I nod, both to Damon and Romance's comments.

"I'll call you," he says seriously, leaving me unsure whether he's referring to my appointment or our date. I look away because his gaze burns and does all sorts of things to my sex drive. "I mean it, Elena. I'm busy, but I'll find a way to schedule you in."

_He's going to make time for you! FUCKING MIND-READER! _I'm gaping at him and he runs a hand through his hair apprehensively.

"What?" he asks nervously.

"Nothing," I quickly say, shaking my head before giving him a small smile. "Sounds good to me."

"Great."

"Okay then."

He nods and then takes my elbow, guiding me towards the door. "You're free to go." When I reach for the handle, he pulls me back and I turn around. He leans forward and my heart races as his face nears mine. He dodges my lips and grazes my ear. "I'll call," he promises in a whisper and I swallow.

I'm only able to utter a small, "Okay."

* * *

Damon called three days later, just like he promised he would. My appointment was briefly scheduled in the midst of our conversation, but he also set up a date for tonight. I debate calling Caroline to tell her everything that's going on, because I really doubt she knows - any of it. Damon doesn't seem like the type to talk about private matters – such as his possible paternity of my baby, my pregnancy (which Care still doesn't know about, by the way), and our mind-blowing sex after our semi-date.

I have to admit, I feel bad that I haven't told her about anything. I just think it's too soon. I know I'm being careful, but things happen and I don't want to get people's hopes up if something should go wrong. Damon told me I should keep things quiet and not tell anyone about the pregnancy until after twelve weeks have passed, also known as my second trimester. When I asked him if I should include him with the news, he'd said, _"If it turns out to be mine, I'd want people to know. It's up to you; do whatever you want."_

That honestly blew me away. He's not ashamed of a one-night-stand resulting in a child?

_No, dammit__,__ now back to tonight's plans! _

Damon said there was something he'd always wanted to try, but never had the time and said he wanted to try it with me. He wouldn't tell me, but swore that it would be harmless for me and the baby, too. Even though I'm nervous, I'm excited. He seems like a bit of a daredevil, but I think I'm safe with him. I mean, yeah, I don't really know him that well, but I feel like I don't have anything to worry about. I'm fairly certain I can trust him.

My phone rings and I glance down at the caller id. It reads: _Damon Salvatore. _I wait for it to ring three times before clicking the 'answer' button.

"Hello?"

"_Hello, Elena,"_ he greets seductively and my stomach flips – in the good way. Butterflies are fluttering in my stomach and the nausea is surprisingly bearable.

"…Hi," I say again and we both laugh, mine awkward and his amused. "Um…"

"_Just calling to make sure we're still on for tonight."_

"What _is_ going on tonight?" I ask and I can practically hear the smirk he's sporting over the silence.

"_You'll find out eventually, Miss Impatient."_

_Hmph. _"But what–"

"_That's for me to know, and you to…dot, dot, dot," _he chuckles and I huff. I've never been patient with surprises and I never like the anticipation that comes with learning there is one.

"When should I be ready and what should I wear?"

"_You could wear anything and be the most eye-catching thing in the room."_

"Damon…"

He sighs before finally placating me with some information. _"Something comfortable. You don't have to dress in a gown or anything. Jeans and a T-shirt will suffice."_ He adds with a drawl, _"See you at seven." _And then the line goes dead.

_He hung up on you, _Romance growls, but I don't care. He was probably getting annoyed with my pestering questions. Whatever. And at least now I know what type of outfit to wear.

I pop a peppermint into my mouth and jump in the shower. Even my shampoo makes me sick, but these mints have been helping immensely. I've got about two hours before he comes over, but I want to look nice. Just because I'm dressing casually doesn't mean my hair can't look good.

Twenty minutes later, I'm blow-drying my hair. Once that's all done, I go to grab a clip and pin up my hair with a sexy twist, leaving a few loose strands dancing along my neck.

I apply light-brown eyeliner, nothing too dark but enough to bring out my eyes and add some smoky eyeshadow for more definition. Mascara tops off my look and I'm happy. I reach for my toothbrush and toothpaste to scrub away the coating that the mint created. The bubblegum flavored paste automatically makes my stomach roll and I'm running to the toilet.

It's hard to keep anything down, and I'm afraid that whatever Damon's got planned is going to be derailed by this everyday-sickness. _Morning sickness, my ass._

Once I'm finished, I apply enough toothpaste to clean my teeth and effectively freshen my breath, but not enough to result in another wave of nausea. _ Note to self: Buy peppermint next time._

I lay down on the couch, watching '_I Love Lucy'_ until it's time to meet Damon. I fall asleep to the sounds of Lucy and Ethel bickering as I've turned down the volume a smidge. When I wake up, it looks dark out. I try to stifle my panic and I hurry to my phone. It reads: _6:45 PM._ And I have one text message.

:

_ From Damon Salvatore:_ _Running a tad late. I'll be there, don't you worry. ;)_

My heart jumps and I respond immediately_. _

_New Message:_

_To Damon Salvatore: Pfft. Who's worried? I'll be waiting._

Less than a minute later his reply appears.

_New Message:  
_

_From Damon Salvatore: Wow, OK. I'll be sure to take my time then. _

I laugh and put my phone down. He'll be here soon enough.

_You're a tease and he's a smartass. It's a match made in Heaven!_

I quickly shove Romance's words aside. I'm not even thinking like that. I'm just going out with a guy who may or may not (probably not) be the father of my child. We're having fun. That's all.

…_Liar. It's more than that and you know it.  
_

* * *

Ten minutes later, my doorbell rings. I open the door and he's waving childishly, fingers wiggling and a confident smirk securely in place. "Hiya."

"Hi, Da –" I begin, but my words halt when I see his other arm is behind his back.

He sees me staring and then Damon's revealing a bouquet of white Ice Cave lilies. "These are for you," he says leaning forward to kiss my cheek and I nearly melt.

_Flowers! He brought you flowers! _

"They're pretty, Damon. Thank you," I reply and I can't fight back the giant smile on my face as I gesture for him to come in so I can place my gift into some water. After a few minutes of searching my kitchen for a jug or something to put my flowers in, I hear an amused laugh and I turn around. "What?"

"I was wondering if I should have bought you a vase, but decided against it." He shrugs. "Apparently I chose wrong."

"Apparently," I mock jokingly and he further enters the kitchen.

"We'll grab one on our way back."

"Back from where?" I ask and he's shaking his head with playful disdain.

"Nice try." Waggling his finger he says. "No dice."

_Dammit! _"Fine," I sigh, finally giving in – much to Damon's satisfaction.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah," I say and he slips his hand into mine. _Hand-holding! _

Tugging me out of the kitchen, down the hall, and to his car, he opens up the door and I climb in. The first question he asks is if I'm comfortable, and I tell him that I'm fine, that the temperature's perfect. He rolls his eyes, knowing I'm patronizing him a little bit from the last time I was in his car.

He turns up the volume to the radio, and waggles his eyebrows impishly.

"What?"

"Listen to the lyrics."

'_I can feel you breathe, I can feel your heart beat faster…' _

I roll my eyes and listen to him start singing the lyrics obnoxiously loud.

"Take me home tonight! I don't wanna let you go till you see the light! Take me home tonight, listen to me – just like Ronnie sang, 'Be my little _baby_…'"

We're both laughing, listening to this song that once strictly held memories of prom. Now it holds the one of him singing horribly out of key. There's a smile on his face and he's being overly dramatic, pretending to sing as though he's tone-deaf - or at least I hope that's the case - and I can't help but marvel over how well he's taking this whole pregnancy ordeal. Most guys would have run for the hills the minute they caught a whiff of commitment this extreme. But I'm grateful. It'd be a lot more stressful if he wasn't.

After driving five minutes to wherever we're going, he takes a turn a tad too sharp and…_oh, no_… "Damon," I barely get out and his content expression disappears.

Before I can motion for him to pull over, the car's already coming to a stop – just in time, too. I throw the door open and lean over the seat, making sure I miss it when the nausea takes over. Nothing's coming out, though. I've already emptied my stomach earlier tonight so at this point, I'm dry-heaving. It's worse than losing contents because I sound like a dying sea lion.

_Yeah, _Romance snickers. _You kind of do._

I hear a door open and shut and then see Damon kneeling beside me with my peripherals. Feeling powerless, I continue to retch dryly until my stomach stops somersaulting. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and Damon's asking me if I'm alright. "One of the joys of pregnancy, I hear," he says apologetically, stroking my cheek, "and I'm experiencing it up close…how you doing?"

"I don't think I'm going to make it the rest of the way," I tell him hoarsely, pulling the door shut and slumping into my seat.

Damon walks around the Camaro, gets back in and then he's turning around to grab plastic bags. Holding them up he says. "I grabbed these just in case. We can either keep going and you can use them, or we can turn around…and you can still use them." He's looking at me with a soft smile, but I honestly don't know if I can last so I shake my head.

"I'm really sorry, but I think I should go home."

* * *

I unlock my front door and he steps inside, following me closely when I go into the kitchen. "I'm afraid this can't be a repeat of the last time," I tell him, checking on my flowers. When I turn around, he's smirking at me. "What?"

"I think I'm offended," he quips with a raised brow. "I'm perfectly capable of enjoying a night-in without expecting sex."

_Yeah, right!_ Romance scoffs. I go to backhand her, but then realize…I can't really blame her for her doubtfulness. I'm doubtful too. I wonder how many other women Damon has been with since we slept together.

…Then again, it's not like we're official. We've only been on half of a date. He's not on a leash; Damon is allowed to bark and chase after whatever bitch he wants.

"I'll tell you what," he says after a minute. "You go and get cleaned up while I'll make some tea for you, okay? You can decide while you're in the bathroom if you're well enough for me to stay or if I should take a rain-check."

_Rain-check?!_ "You want to see me again?" I ask with a bewildered chuckle. "I mean, I nearly threw up all over your car."

"Yes." His voice is firm and he gestures for me to do as he says. "I want to see you again. Now go."

I smile and then walk to my bathroom to brush my teeth. Staring into my mirror, I'm not sure why he's still hanging around. My hair's matted, my mascara's smeared from my vomit session and my breath is brutal. I look disgusting. I squeeze my toothpaste on to the bristles – the right amount, to avoid getting sick again – and brush. After, I fix my make-up and brush through my hair a few times.

_Now, at least, you don't look like as much of a train wreck._

I poke my head outside my bathroom and look down the hallway where my couch is in view. Damon's sitting on it. He waves at me and I exit, my face a little flushed. "You're still here," I declare with a grin.

"Of course I am." He pats the seat next to him and I walk over to sink right into the cushions. I love my couch. "You look like you're feeling better."

"Is that your way of saying I looked like crap before?"

"No," he shakes his head, his face falling. "Not what I meant at all, Elena, I just meant –"

"Relax," I wink. "I'm messing with you."

"You're hilarious," he says wryly. "So. Are you?"

"Messing with you? I just told you –"

"No," he chuckles. "Are you feeling better? If you want to rest I can leave."

_NO!_ Romance protests – loudly – and she's running to my front door with flailing arms to block him from leaving. I like his company. He has this presence that practically oozes calm and serenity. "Yeah."

"'Yeah,' you feel better? Or 'yeah,' you want to rest?"

I check the status of my stomach, and seeing as it's not rolling around at the moment, I tell him, "Yes, I feel better."

Damon reaches over and grabs the remote to turn on the TV. I can't help but stare at his profile. He looks comfortable; his shoulders are relaxed and one of his legs is crossed so that his left ankle is resting on his right knee. "What do you want to watch?" he asks and I shrug.

"You choose."

"I don't know what service you use," he tells me. "I don't know what channels you have."

"Looks like we'll just be surfing for a while," I say, leaning into him a bit as he flips through the channels. When my favorite show flashes across the screen, I practically scream, "Here! Wait, no, Damon! Go back."

"_I Love Lucy? _Elena, I never pegged you for a Lucille Ball fan."

"Are you kidding?" I smile. "I love her; she's hilarious."

Damon shrugs his shoulders, as if he's unimpressed while flipping the channel to the one I want to watch. "I like Ricky better."

_He watches, too? _"_You_ watch '_I Love Lucy'?"_ I gasp and he nods.

"The show's a classic. 'Lucy, I'm hooome!'" he recites, laughing as he says the line, big arms and all. "I don't think that line _ever_ gets old."

_I don't think you'll _ever_ stop impressing us! _Romance swoons and I'm once again agreeing with her. We spend some time talking about our favorite lines, and then Damon wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer to him.

"I like this."

My head leisurely falls to rest on his shoulder. We're watching Lucy make her signature disgruntled face whenever she gets disgusted by something when I realize what he's just said. "Like what?"

"This; watching TV. Being here with you – all of it."

I lift my head to look at him and his blue eyes are mesmerizing. They're penetrating and he's bending down and I'm craning my neck to kiss him. Our lips mesh perfectly; they're just as soft as I remember. How could I have possibly forgotten how they felt against mine?

My hands reach out to wrap around his neck and I'm pulling him on top of me. Damon's tongue slips into my mouth and suddenly we hear, _"Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do!"__, _which effectively puts the fire out before it has a chance to get out of control.

He laughs at _my _personal favorite line. "That'll always be my favorite one," he chuckles and kisses me again; though, this time there's no urgency to it. This time, this kiss is slow, sweet, and dare I say romantic.

_KEEPER!_ Romance squeals with an eager clapping of her hands and I shush her. Damon runs a hand through my hair, being careful so that his fingers don't get tangled in my locks. "You're beautiful, Elena; you know that?" he breathes and his fingers graze my cheek with a feather light touch, caressing it softly.

"Not for long," I grumble, shaking my head. One of the baby books I bought told me that around three and a half months my stomach will start to grow and my breasts should start filling out (not that I can complain about _that_). "Everything's going to get bigger," I mutter and he pecks my lips chastely.

"So what? Bigger just means there's more to enjoy." _Enjoy? _I've heard that expression multiple times before and 'enjoy' is not the word that's usually paired with it.

"Yeah," I sigh, moving slightly because my arm has fallen asleep.

"Don't worry about it. You'll still be gorgeous." Damon pulls away and shifts so that he's sitting back up, but he scoots back, takes my feet and places them in my lap.

_Brownie points if you rub 'em! _I can't help but realize how strangely boyfriend-like this is, but maybe I'm just overthinking it. I haven't had a boyfriend in two years – maybe times have changed and fuck buddies now treat each other like a couple would. "What are we doing?" I ask a few minutes after he starts pressing his thumbs into the pads of my feet.

"Watching _I Love Lucy,"_ he responds, though it sounds more like a question.

_You're going to have to spell it out to him. _I groan internally. I really don't want to have to but I will. "Since when do fuck buddies rub each other's feet?"

Damon's massaging ceases, and one of his eyebrows jumps. "Each others' feet? Does that mean I get a foot rub, too?" A grin plays on his lips.

"That's not…no. I just…" Dammit, I really will have to lay it out there for him. "You're being very sweet with me, and it's not that I don't appreciate it, Damon, but…you're acting like a boyfriend."

"I'm doing this because I want to, Elena. I'm a nice guy, what can I say?"

"You are," I agree immediately. "You don't have to do these kinds of things for me, though. Really, you don't. You're not my boyfriend, Damon."

"What if I said I want to be?" He's gauging my reaction with his challenging retort. He wants to be with me?

_APPARENTLY._

I give him a shrug. "I would ask you…why?"

"You know why. There's the obvious reason," he quips, pointing to my stomach. "Elena, you are kind, stunning – inside and out." He pauses and takes a shaky breath. "I feel like a fucking high schooler, but, be my girlfriend?" A smile teases Damon's lips, but mine is already there, greeting his and his arms wrap around me tightly, pulling me close against him. "…So that's a yes, right?" he smirks.

I give him a nod, kissing him again. "That's a yes."

We're smiling against each other's lips, and Damon seems to be hesitating before sitting back up and gesturing for me to lean against him – his arms are open and he's wiggling his eyebrows at me again. I snuggle up close and he wraps his limbs around me securely.

He lets his chin rest on the crown of my head and during the next commercial we begin some light, meaningless conversation about whether or not Nuwave ovens actually work or if they're just stupid gimmicks to swindle people out of their money, like most products from paid programs are.

Then the conversation takes a turn when Damon says casually, "I think I could get used to this." I however, am totally thrown for a loop with what he's just said.

"Oh, yeah?" I squeak, my voice jumping an octave and he's chuckling.

_Cuddling? Talking? What? USE YOUR WORDS! _Romance is freaking out and I'm trying my best to clamp my hand over her mouth to keep them from being voiced out loud.

"Yeah," he says, giving me a kiss on my forehead. The show comes back on, but we're not really paying attention to the silly redhead on the screen anymore. I'm too entranced by the feel of Damon's heartbeat as I lay against his chest.

I'm not sure how long we sit like this. Eventually my eyelids start to grow heavy, and Damon's chest is a comfortable pillow.

* * *

The next thing I know, Damon's clearing his throat and they snap open again. "Sorry," he whispers, ghosting his knuckles down my arm. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"How did you know I was sleeping?" I ask, covering a hand over my mouth to yawn sleepily.

"You stopped moving," he laughs and I'm pulling back to look at him again. "What?" he smirks. "When you're awake _some_ part of you is always fidgeting or twitching; whether it's your fingers, your knees..."

My brows scrunch together. I've never thought about how much I move before. And I never realized Damon paid that close attention to my habits. "Huh," I reply and his smirk widens.

"Don't worry. I've been known to have a part of me fidget and twitch, too. Especially when aroused." He's winking at me now and holy crap, I want him again.

There's just one thing that's been on my mind for a while, and I haven't had the chance to ask him about it yet. But I need to ask him this. So I blurt out, "Damon, why are you single?"

He blanches and then looks away from me, as if he's trying to figure out exactly how to respond to my random question and then he's shrugging. "There's something I need to take care of before I try to really pursue a girl I've had my eyes on for a while," he says slowly, as if he's trying to choose the right words.

My heart sinks and now it's making sense. He _is_ only staying with me out of pity. I'm pregnant, and he feels trapped – never mind the dozens of times I've told him that the chances of this child being his are slim and none. He's got a girlfriend out there, somewhere. Someone who can make him happy and give him what he wants. Damon's a sweetheart. But honestly, Daddy Damon? He's not quite father material and I'm not sure I want his whore accompanying him to my house to see his kid, should it be his.

"I see," I mutter and then his finger is hooking under my chin, forcing me to look at him. I both hate and love when he does this. Unfortunately, right now it's the first feeling. I may be facing him but that doesn't mean I have to look into his eyes. They stare at Lucy and Ricky yelling at each other until Damon's growling.

"Look at me." I don't. "Elena, _look_ at me."

I inhale deeply, and exhale a sharp breath of air. "What?" I say, finally meeting his scrutinizing gaze.

"You're mad at me. Why?"

_Are you shitting me?_ "Wha-Well, I have no idea _why_. Maybe it's because you've just said everything I needed to know about where you and I stand."

"Wait, _what?"_ he questions, and his eyes are blazing. "You didn't ask me where I thought the two of us stand. You asked me why I was single and I told you why."

"Because I don't do it for you," I shot back and he's gaping at me. "There's someone else."

Damon freezes for half a millisecond before relaxing and shaking his head. "There's no one else, Elena. I know we've only known each other for a few weeks, and this is _technically_ our first date…but I don't have any desire to see anyone else. I wouldn't have asked you to be my girlfriend if there were anyone else. _You're_ that one I've had my eye on."

"Oh," I say, momentarily taken aback by what he's just said. Then reality sets back in. "You say that now. And only because you think I'm having your baby." I have no idea where these doubts are coming from, but they're coming – hard and fast.

Damon scrubs his hands over his face and sighs heavily. "You could be without child, paralyzed and blind, and I'd still want you, Elena."

"What if it turns out the baby's not yours, and I really turn out to be pregnant because of the insemination process. Just knocked up by some nameless, faceless father?"

"Then some random guy is the biological father. Cool. I don't care," he deadpans, but his eyes ignite with a hidden amusement. "You know, I'm always telling dads to expect mood swings because of the mothers' raging hormones…I've got a front row seat. Wow."

That's what's wrong with me? _That's_ why I can't keep the insecurities within me from spiraling out of control? "Is that why I'm freaking out?"

Nodding, he pulls me closer to him. "Elena, I like you…a lot. I've already said it, but I'll say it again and again until you finally believe me."

Against my better judgment, the one that's warning me not to fall so hard so fast, I nod. It's been years since I've had someone care about me, give me hope, and give me a reason to believe in love again. I'm not sure if that's the case with Damon, but I'd like to think it's possible for us. "I believe you," I smile and he's cupping my face and leaning his head down to kiss me. He bends me down until I'm on my back and he's hovering over me.

Damon breathes against my lips. "I'd like it if you could help with a problem I'm having."

I moan as his hands slide up my shirt to massage my breasts. "W-with what?" I ask breathlessly, feeling desire pool deep within.

"I can't stop twitching." With that he carries me to my bedroom and I help him take care of his twitching problem – three times.

* * *

_AN: There it is, the second chapter. What did you think? Please share your thoughts by leaving a review! ~Kate_


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN:** You all continue to make my week. Your reviews inspire me, guys. Please, keep them coming! __Okay, so this chapter is _so_ freakin' long. Make popcorn, get a cup of coffee (Mirna, I owe you two spoonfulls for last chapter, yeah?), or snuggle up with a blanket while you read. Fair warning: __You guys may want to buckle up for this one. Things are going to take a sharp turn. ~Kate_

_**PS: **Thank you, Carol for the medical terminology and as always, a ginormous thank you to Morgan for taking time out of her day to beta this thing. I love you both! _

* * *

I'm happy to announce I've successfully made it well into my second semester.

I wake up and feel Damon's arms wrapped securely around me, his hand splayed loosely over my now visible bump. He's been amazing these last few weeks, staying by my side through the glorious and… _not_ so glorious aspects of this pregnancy. I still can't believe Damon is here. I mean, he's stayed over nearly every night since purging his feelings, but part of me still half-expects him to crawl out of bed to escape.

It's almost as if he's too good to be true. Then again, maybe that insecurity has sprouted from the fact that there's still something he's not telling me. I can feel it. But even if he _were_ hiding something, I don't feel like I have the place to call him out on it. It's not like I'm his wife or anything.

It's quite the predicament I've found myself in.

I have to go to the bathroom, so I carefully wriggle out of Damon's hold and climb out of bed to tiptoe into my bathroom. Silently shutting the door behind me, I catch my reflection in the mirror.

_Holy shit! _I quickly grab a brush to detangle my brown locks while I sit on the toilet to relieve myself. Hearing a knock on the door, Damon's calling out to me.

"Elena?" he asks through the door. "How are you doin' in there?"

"Great," I reply. Shit, I woke him up. "Go back to sleep."

"You know, I _would_," Damon suddenly says with a chuckle. "But I have to pee, babe. Could you hurry up?"

"Be out in a sec!" I say, pulling up my panties and flushing the toilet. After washing my hands I try to tousle my hair so that it doesn't look like I have bed-head but…a more stylized version of sex hair so that I can attempt looking decent for Damon. I shrug after doing so; I can work with that.

I unlock it and open the door. Damon steps through it and kisses me. His eyes are half-open, still heavy from sleep as his hands drop down to my waist and he pulls me towards him, switching our positions so that I'm now closest to the door. "I'll be out in a sec," he winks tiredly, repeating my words before gently nudging me out of the bathroom and closing the door.

In the meantime, I take off my t-shirt and pull a lilac colored dress out of my closet. Slipping it on, I walk over to my wall-length mirror and stare at myself. The dress is tighter now. There's a noticeable change in my stomach's flatness; it's no longer so flat. I didn't think it would be as big as it was for someone in their fourth month, but here I am. My breasts are noticeably bigger and I seem to have a sort of…_glow _about me. Who'd have guessed that saying was actually true?

I hear the bathroom door open followed by his footsteps before feeling the kiss that Damon leaves on the crown of my head. "Morning, lover."

"Good morning," I smile and turn my face, reaching up so that I can pull his head down. I capture his lips with mine. It's been four months of dating Doctor-Sexy-Man and I'm still on cloud nine. The baby's healthy, though I haven't felt him kick yet. Damon told me not to worry about it; it could happen anywhere from four to six months for the first time.

His hand travels down my spine and I shiver. I can see his smirk in the mirror and I back into him deliberately. "How are you feeling?" he asks and I give him a nod. "You're not feeling nauseous?"

I shake my head again, giggling softly. He's been hovering. "I actually feel good. I think the morning sickness part is finally over." I kiss him chastely, playfully tapping his chest and say, "Let's go make some food before we leave."

"Good idea. But let's make sure to avoid eggs this time around, alright?"

I roll my eyes, but I know Damon's serious. Turns out, the baby hates eggs – in any form; scrambled, sunny-side, hard-boiled, none of it. He or she _despises_ them.

We have about forty-five minutes before my appointment, though Damon isn't too pressed for time – oh, the perks of having a doctor as your boyfriend? You don't have to worry about someone snaking your time-slot if you're late.

"Sounds good to me," I agree and he links our fingers together, tugging me out of the room and toward my kitchen.

In par with the perfect boyfriend he appears to be, Damon's here almost every day and either picks me up for breakfast, or makes it for me himself. It's sweet and I know I shouldn't over-analyze, but I can't help it. I'm pregnant, okay? There's two of us I'm looking out for now.

But when we enter the kitchen, he's got that adorable lopsided grin - the one I'm powerless against - plastered on his lips and it has my heart performing somersaults in my chest.

Ugh. Whatever. I give up. I give in.

_HALLELUJAH! _

I'm going to stop fighting the doubt lingering inside and just…go with what I feel for him. The feelings are stronger and he's good to me and he makes me happy. Though…I really should still ask him about…

_Whatever that sexy sneak is hiding._

"Are you excited?" Damon asks and I'm brought out of my head.

"Hmm?"

"About the appointment. We get to find out if you're having a mini-you or a mini-m…" he trips over his words, pursing his lips and quickly backtracking. "A mini-you or a boy who's going to learn how to play football from the best," he corrects with a clearing of his voice, but I notice. He flashes his eyes. "Are you _excited_?" he asks again, rubbing his hands down my arms, guiding me to my chair.

I take a seat and watch him easily maneuver around the kitchen, grabbing utensils and a huge steel bowl. He grabs random ingredients from the kitchen, but I know exactly what he's going to make us. "Crepes?" I ask excitedly. "You haven't made those yet. You're actually making something normal today."

Damon's made me every Italian dish known to man, and I assume that either he's bored or doesn't know any other breakfast recipes. I can't complain, though. French works too; I love crepes!

"I know," he smirks, looking at me over his shoulder. "I'll throw a surprise in there too for you."

I nod, because he hasn't let me down yet with his brilliant skills in the kitchen. As he starts to make the mix, pouring it into the bowl, his eyes flick upwards from the mixer and they land on my not-so-flat-anymore belly. Darting upward, and seeing his eyes meet mine, they shoot back down and focus on his preparation once again.

I've seen the lingering gaze Damon's been giving my stomach lately. He wants this baby to be his, and though I don't care either way – I get my child regardless – it pains me to see the hope in his eyes when I know that the pendulum can easily swing out of his favor with a paternity test, as I'm expecting it to.

"It's almost ready, babe," he mumbles, clearly absorbed in his doings. He turns around, grabs a container of something I can't see and drops the mystery ingredient into the bowl before hitting the blender. "Okay," Damon smirks, "Just a few more minutes."

As I relax against my chair, I start to sing to myself. "Touchin' him was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you…"

"Who's that?" he asks, and I laugh at him.

"Taylor Swift," I smile. "It's her latest song."

He gives a nod and a lazy smile as he says, "Lucky for you, I have an unflinching ability to listen to her."

After flipping the crepes and putting a small pile on my plate – I_ am _eating for two, after all – Damon sets it in front me and grabs me a glass of water. He sits down across from me, at my tiny circular breakfast table, and gestures for me to dig in. "Let me know if you think it was too much."

I cut a piece with my knife and fork and stab at it, lifting it into my mouth. Right before I take a bite, I tell him, "I'm sure it'll be fine." Chewing it, I nod. I was right. "It's delic-" I start to say, but pause when my stomach rolls and cheeks begin to burn soon after swallowing. Clamping my hand over my mouth, I push out of my chair and run for the kitchen sink because I know I won't make it to the bathroom in time.

"Shit," I hear Damon mutter and then I feel his hands pulling my hair off my neck and into a makeshift ponytail. "You're okay," he soothes. I try to gasp for air, but then my stomach lurches and I retch again. My eyes are clamped shut, and God, I _hate_ throwing up.

After reaching a moment of respite, I think I'm finally done. I pull away from the sink and Damon places a gentle kiss on my flushed cheek. "I am so sorry," he mumbles against my skin before placing another sweet kiss there. "I shouldn't have added those blueberries."

_Ah. Blueberries: the little bastards._ "There's the culprit." I turn around, keeping my face down and away from him so that he doesn't have to smell my breath, and shoot him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I should've warned you…fruits don't quite agree with me right now. And blue ones kind of hate me."

Damon reaches for the rag by the faucet before running it under cool water. His eyes search my face and he pushes the damp hair off my forehead with a tender swipe of his palm. I lean into his touch and he smirks at me as he runs the dishcloth over my skin. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"It does," I nod, turning my face so that I can kiss his hand.

"I'm glad. Are you hot?"

"A little."

"Smokin'," he drawls, smirking and I laugh.

_Suck-up_,Romance snickers with a roll of her eyes. "I should go brush my teeth," with the peppermint toothpaste I've finally picked up, I might add. "I'll be back in a couple minutes and then we can leave, okay?"

"Sounds good," he nods, stepping out of my way.

* * *

Damon and I walk hand in hand as we step through the door of his office. A receptionist, a woman I've only met recently, walks up to him with a concerned expression. "Doctor Salvatore," Rose questions, holding a clipboard and waving it to catch his attention. "May I have a word?"

Damon gives her a curt nod and then gives _me_ a light tap on the behind. "Go ahead, I won't be long," he tells me. I have my own room for when check-ups happen – another perk of a doctor being your boyfriend. Right before I close the door, I hear a quiet, low curse. "Leave her out of this, Rose."

His quick, terse phrase is spoken with finality and before he discovers me eavesdropping, I let the door click shut. Internally wondering what that was about, I reach for my gown and as I remove my top, there's a knock on the door. Two quick pounds tells me it belongs to Damon. "Come in."

A smile spreads over his face as he steps toward me, his fingers ghost from my hips to my chest and tease my breasts. "I always look forward to seeing these," he murmurs, ducking to give them each a kiss, and my eyes roll to the back of my head at the sensory overload.

"You haven't tired of them, yet?" I ask breathlessly, my fingers kneading his scalp, playing with his raven hair.

He chuckles, lifting his face and pressing his lips to mine. "Nope." Standing back up, he walks over to the ultrasound machine and gets things ready while I finish undressing and change into the tacky hospital gown.

"We seriously need to design a cuter outfit," I quip. Damon's rolling his eyes as I climb onto the bed and scrunch the fabric up until it's just under my breasts. It's just the two of us and the door's locked – every doctor on this floor knows we're together. No one cares, except for Rose apparently; I wonder why.

Damon grabs the transducer and squirts jelly onto it. "You know the routine," he smiles softly. "It's cold."

"I remember," I nod, but jump once I feel the chilly liquid on my skin. You'd think I'd get used to that by now. I examine my belly with my eyes as Damon does the same with his machine. I've gotten bigger over the last couple months; as I said before, I didn't think I'd be _this_ big though. I'm seriously the size of a small basketball – the ones you use in those arcade games.

"So far, so good," Damon explains; it's obvious he's in doctor-mode. It makes these appointments easier for him, and I know exactly why. "Alright, let's see how baby Gilbert's doing today." His eyes narrow as he searches the screen and rubs the device over my belly. Suddenly a low, soft, steady thrumming can be heard and we both smile; me, the excited mommy, and Damon, the pleased doctor.

"Is it just me," I question, noticing something different about the way my baby's vitals sound. "Or is there an echo?" I know senses are supposed to improve during pregnancy, but I thought that was smell and taste – not my hearing ability like some sort of creature of the night. "Damon?"

His eyes are locked on the screen and he's not moving; he's frozen solid - save for the fact I see his chest moving, signaling that he's not dead.

"What's wrong?" I ask, seeing his eyebrows dip and his jaw clench. "Damon…" My heart starts to race and then he's jumping back into the exam. "You're scaring me."

"No," he says.

"What?"

"No, there's not an echo," he says, glancing at me before letting his eyes flit back to the screen. "It's, uh, there's another heartbeat. You're having twins."

…_WHAT?_

"Twins?" I ask, my eyes darting from the screen back to my bump. I rub my hands over it in awe. Weeks ago I'd wanted a miracle; now I was getting two. My family is now not only going to be expanding by two feet, but four. "Seriously?" I choke out, smiling like an idiot as tears well in my eyes.

"They're healthy," Damon explains. "It looks that way, anyway." He hands me some paper towels to wipe the goo off my belly and, before shutting down the machine, he asks if I want a sonogram picture. I hurriedly nod and he prints one off. He doesn't say anything more. No congratulations, no worry, no affection; nothing. He's cold and detached when he hands me the photo.

After the appointment, I change back into my everyday clothes and grudgingly wait for Damon to return. He went to schedule another appointment within the next couple of weeks.

I'm waiting a little bit because he doesn't come back.

Damon wouldn't actually leave me here, would he? I wait about twenty minutes before I realize something's wrong and go into the waiting area. Walking up to the receptionist, I say to Rose, "Have you seen Damon?"

She swallows once and the look in her eyes is one of pity. Shit. I don't know what her problem is, but I don't like the vibe I'm getting from her. "I'm sorry, Elena. Damon left fifteen minutes ago." She holds up her clipboard and points. "He scheduled your appointment for this time in exactly two weeks. And it's with Doctor Saltzman."

_THAT SON OF A BITCH, _Romance hollers and I have to do a double-take because I realize it's not Romance. It's her sister – Rage. _I'm going to kill him, cut off his balls and shove them down his fucking throat!_

I _cannot_ believe he left me. Not only that, but he handed me off to another doctor without even discussing it with me. "Thank you, Rose," I grit out, trying with everything I have not to cry. I knew it. I figured he'd run the moment it started to sink in. God, I feel like an idiot.

* * *

I raise my hand up high, signaling for a taxi. I'm holding a newspaper over my head since it's raining cats and dogs out here and no one's stopping for the pregnant girl. The flimsy article doesn't do much to protect me from getting soaked, because I'm absolutely drenched, freezing and miserable – both emotionally and physically. All I want to do is crawl in front of my fireplace with a giant blanket wrapped around me, sipping hot chocolate with my mom's arms cradling me, telling me that Damon is the world's biggest asshole.

Finally a cab rolls to a stop, and I climb in the car. I cup my hands over my mouth and blow into them, attempting to warm them up, but my attempts are futile.

"Where to, Miss?" the driver asks and I tell him Eighth Street in Chelsea. I'm wiping my eyes and taking deep breaths; my stomach's rolling in waves. The feeling is different than what I'm used to; it actually kind of hurts. I haven't experienced 'morning' sickness in weeks, aside from the accidental meal made of blueberries and apparently the culprit of right now – stress.

My nausea fades as I focus on the serene sound of rain pinging on the roof of my ride home. I let it calm me to the point where I'm no longer heaving for air and though I'm still freezing – apparently this guy doesn't know how to work the heater – I feel a little bit better.

Finally stopping in front of my house, I pay the man and unlock my front door, shutting it immediately and locking it again. I make a beeline for my fireplace, crumbling up random papers I no longer need, throw them in and light a match. Tossing the burning pick into the pit, it takes a while for it to catch but soon a flicker of flame appears, starting to feed off of the strips and balls of crumpled papers. Then, finally, the wooden logs start to burn as well.

Shivering and shaking, I set my purse beside me. I have no desire whatsoever to look at my phone; I don't need to hear Damon explain why it won't work between us. _'I'm sorry, Elena, but I was just getting used to one. Two is one too many.'_ I can almost hear his sympathetic voice and I shrug it off.

However, after a moment of consideration, I realize I do want my phone. I need to talk to my mom. When the screen illuminates, I see there _is _a missed call, from Damon – _called it!_ – but I hit 'ignore' and click on the contact titled, _Mom._

She picks up on the first ring and I'm eager to speak with her. Like most connections between mother and daughters, her voice immediately makes me feel better and I listen to her happy tone. _"Hi, sweetheart!"_ she greets and I can visualize the gigantic smile on her face. I haven't spoken to her in days; she sounds like she hasn't spoken to me in years. _"How…you? How are you and Damon…the baby? Feeling…sweetie?"_

"Mom?" I ask; the connection must bad because I've missed a lot of what she's said.

"_Sorry," _she laughs breathlessly. Where the hell is she? _"I'm in the car and went through the Rough Zone. It doesn't help that it's raining like a hurricane. I heard the weather up there isn't great either. Did you hear any of what I said before?"_

I nod, knowing exactly where she's at. I'm surprised our call wasn't dropped, but I answer her. "No, can you repeat it?"

"_I asked how you and Damon were and if you were feeling better?"_

"Oh." Shit. My mom hasn't even met him yet, and she's already one meeting short from calling him her future son-in-law.

"_Uh oh,"_ she sighs. _"That doesn't sound good. What's wrong, Elena? Tell me."_

"I had an appointment today," I cough, clearing my voice. "I'm pregnant with twins."

"_Sweetie, that's wonderful! How did Damon take…oh,"_ she drawls, suddenly understanding. _"He panicked, didn't he?"_

"He shut down completely," I correct, feeling my voice crack. "He left me alone at the office after scheduling another appointment. To top it off, he scheduled me with some other doctor I've never met."

"_Oh, Elena. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sure there's a…"_

"Seriously?" I choke out, unable to stifle my sob. "Now's not the time to be Team Damon, okay? You're supposed to be on _my_ side."

"_Of course I am. I'd be there in a heartbeat if I –" _Her words are cut off by a loud horn coming from over the line and then the sound of skidding brakes, followed by metal crashing against metal and glass shattering.

"Mom!" I scream, begging and pleading for her to answer but she doesn't. I hear silence. Painful, deafening silence and my panic is bubbling. "Mom?" What am I supposed to do? Do I hang up and call for help? Do I stay on the line with her? I hear another voice in the background and he's shouting. It sounds like '_Can you hear me,'_ but I'm not sure; it's muffled. _"Hello?"_ it asks; it's clear as day and I'm quick to answer.

"Who is this? What happened? Where is my mom? Is she alright?" I shoot questions at him, anxious for immediate answers.

"_I was in the car that hit your mother. My tires started to hydroplane and I wasn't able to gain traction," _he tells me. "_She's unconscious, but I've already phoned for an ambulance."_

"Oh my God," I utter, and the heavy breaths continue once more.

"_I'm so sorry," _he says, and it's obvious he can hear my fearful intakes of air. I try to open my mouth to speak but all that comes out are shaken gasps. _"It's okay. Everything's going to be fine. I can already hear the sirens."_

"Okay," I manage, my throat painfully tight.

"_Look, the name's Finn, but here's the ambulance. Just give me one second to talk to the paramedics, okay?"_

My mind's racing a million miles an hour and there's a painful twinge in my stomach. The screen of my phone lights up and I see _'Incoming Call. From: Damon Salvatore.'_

Instincts take over and I hit the '_flash'_ button that causes the line to switch from this Finn person to the man who'd left me high and dry not an hour earlier. "Damon," I cry.

"_Elena?" _he asks frantically._ "What is it, what's wrong?"_

"My mom," I cry, my voice hitching as I stutter over my uncontrollable sobbing. "M-my mom was in an accident, Damon, and she's on the way to the h-hospital. I can't talk right now, I…I have to go."

"_I'm on my way," _he says and before I can tell him not to come, that I don't want him here, he hangs up and I'm forgetting about the call entirely, remembering that my mom's in trouble. Quickly, I click a button and jump to the other line.

"Finn? Hello?"

"_They're taking your mom to Mystic Falls Hospital. I've called for help, and now she has it. I tried to ask for information, but because I'm not family they're refusing." _I'm hanging on his every word as he continues. _"I'll keep her phone on me. What is your name?"_

"Elena," I breathe shakily.

"_Okay. I'll call you as soon as I know anything, Elena."_

"Thank you," I whisper and the line goes dead.

My mom's going to be fine. She's going to be just fine. She's going to live and then I'll hear her voice again and _shit!_ Why didn't I hang up once I found out she was driving? My fingers run through my hair and clamp down on my scalp. I sink to the floor.

I'm such an idiot, I caused her accident; this is my own fault. My sobs are cut off when I hear a loud pounding on my front door. _"Elena!"_ It's Damon. He's here already? I go to stand and I wrap my blanket around my shoulders. "_Open the –"_ I answer the door and look up into his eyes while tears fall from mine. His hands are still balled into fists, getting ready to pound on the entrance to my home as he finishes, "Door."

He's pulling me against him before I have a chance to react. "What's going on?" he breathes into my damp hair. "Have you heard from your mom?"

_Have I…? _Something inside me snaps; I struggle out of his arms to break free. Having succeeded, he's staring at me with confusion. "Oh, please," I laugh bitterly through my tears. "Don't pretend like you care."

"What? Elena –"

"No!" I yell. "You left me today and you put me under another doctor's care," I wipe away the tears flowing, and yank my blanket tighter around me; I still can't warm up. I'm shaking from the rain, the fear and the rage as I bite out, "You could've backed out like a _man,_ and broken things off right then and there when you found out I was having twins." I scoff. "But instead, you snuck out – like the coward you apparently are. You don't care, Damon. Don't pretend like you do."

He looks lost, trying to figure out his next words. "I…I panicked."

"You think?" I screech and my stomach knots, tighter than before but not enough for me to relinquish my chastising. He fucked up, he should know it. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for me to walk out of that room and have a co-worker of yours tell me that not only am I no longer under your watch, that Doctor Saltzman or whatever the hell is name is will be taking care of me from now on, but that you'd already left the office?"

Damon's expression was that of crestfallen disappointment. I can't really find it in me to give a shit. He did what he did and I don't need the stress. "If you'd let me get a word in, then –"

"Don't, Damon," I snap. His jaw clenches and I'm done. So done. "I want you to leave. I have other things, _bigger_ things to worry about besides you freaking out over your girlfriend having twins! My mother could be dying! I need you to leave, I can't –" I can't even finish my sentence because my breath is being stolen from me.

Once I'm able to grab it, I inhale deeply and tell Damon to get out again. Growling, he turns around to leave and when his hand reaches the door knob, a gut wrenching pain tears through me. "Ugh...ow," I mutter, wincing as the splicing seems to worsen.

"Elena?" Damon asks, looking over his shoulder to see my hands curl around my stomach. His brows furrows and he takes a step towards me. When I don't stop his movement, Damon flies to my side. My eyes are locked shut and a whimper escapes my lips. "You have to tell me what's wrong," he demands as his hand comes around my waist to pull me over to the couch.

"I don't know," I finally bite out, prepared to banish him again but then I see the look in his wide, blue eyes. They're filled with fear, and he seems to be genuinely concerned. My anger would have to wait. I need to focus. "Damon," I whisper. "Help me."

When he tenses, I see the emotion on his face fade. Doctor Salvatore is here and my jackass of a boyfriend is gone for the moment. He kneels, ready to ask me questions. The twisting sensation happens again and my other hand flies out to grab Damon's shoulder.

"Oh, God," I gasp and Damon reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. He squeezes my hand in support, but doesn't answer me when I ask what's happening. Instead he calls for an ambulance, and then he's lifting me into his arms.

"Shhh," Damon promises, "You're going to be okay."

"Why won't you tell me what's happening, Damon?" My voice hitches in fear and my insides warp and constrict again. "Mmm," I whimper, and the hand not currently wrapped around Damon's neck grips my belly. "Are the babies okay? Something's wrong, isn't it?"

His next words have me frozen, and I'm thankful he's holding me because I would've fallen to the ground. The room starts spinning when he says, "I don't want to scare you."

"You're scaring me now," I admit fearfully, and he gives me an apologetic look as he carries me out of the living room and out of my house altogether. "Tell me, please."

"You might be – "

A sharp pain rips through me again and I cry out. "Damon!"

"What?" he asks, panicked, his grip around me tightening. I can barely hear the sound of sirens in the background as my world starts to blur out of focus. I hear Damon's voice, but it's distorted and sounds light-years away. Like some cliché scene out of an angst movie, my world fades to black and I'm being pulled under.

* * *

Steady beeping sounds and whispering voices bring me out of whatever state of unconsciousness I was in. "She's awake," a velvety voice says, filled with relief and something along the lines of panic. "Rose, I'm not having this discussion with you any longer and I don't know why you keep pressing it whenever Elena's nearby."

"She deserves the truth, Damon. What do you think is going to happen when she finds out about –"

"Would you be quiet?" he hisses, but his tone quickly changes. "I'm sorry…a lot has happened today. Look, I've been meaning to tell her."

"Really?"

"Yes," he snaps. "I've just been waiting for the right time. It's not something you bring up in everyday conversation, Rose. I'll tell her, but not now – especially not now."

"Alright," the woman sighs and then I hear the sound of a door shut with a soft _snick_.

Fighting the drowsiness, I force my eyes open. When I do, I notice the relieved look on Damon's face when he scoots his chair closer, takes my hand into both of his and brings them to his lips. "Hi, babe," he mumbles against my fingers, stroking them with his thumbs.

I try to speak, but my throat's so dry I can't say much other than a gruff, "Water."

He stands up and walks over to the table beside me, and pours me some water. Placing a little plastic straw into the cup, he holds it up to my lips. I open my mouth and take a sip, the cool liquid instantly extinguishing the burning that lingers there. I keep my eyes away from him, remembering why I'd been so angry. "What happened?" I ask quietly.

Damon's sitting beside me again. A long moment passes and I stare at him, seeing that he's once again looking hesitant to respond. "I should've kept a better eye on you…dammit, Elena." He watches me carefully and says. "You were miscarrying."

"What?" I shriek, my voice cracking and my eyes flooding with tears. My eyes snap to the fetal monitor beside me.

"It's okay," Damon's voice comforts mine. He rubs my leg up and down and gives my knee a gentle squeeze. "They're safe, Elena. They're okay."

My throat clenches to fight off tears and my head falls back against my lumpy pillow. "Thank God," I breathe, clearing my voice again.

"Your blood pressure was through the roof; we gave you Normodyne to lower it." He grabs the cup again after seeing me looking at it. He helps me sit up this time so that I'm able to drink more easily and when he goes to pull away his hand lingers on my back for a second longer than natural. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," I whisper and both of my hands rest on my belly. And I am; I'm exhausted and not in the mood to fight with Damon again; it's the only reason I haven't kicked him out of the room.

"I'm sorry," he says softly and I hesitantly meet his scrutinizing gaze again. "I did leave, and I did assign you to someone else. But, Elena, you're going to love Alaric. He's my best friend and I wouldn't trust you with anyone else."

I watch him through narrowed eyes as he continues. "I only gave you away as my patient because you were right. Four months ago, you told me this was a conflict of interest. I made the right call, because seeing you in that amount of pain, Elena…" he shakes his head, swallowing thickly. "I couldn't handle that professionally. I wouldn't be able to handle you like you were just another patient, and I tried. For a second I thought I could do it and then you had another cramp, and you were in agony… I realized I couldn't do it." Damon continues with, "My feelings got in the way; the only reason I'm here right now is because I had the passcode to this room." My brows shoot upward and Damon smirks. "I may or may not have watched the nurse punch in the numbers," he admits with a shrug. "I have good eyes."

"Apparently." Another long moment passes and I can't help it. I have to know. You don't run out on your pregnant girlfriend; I don't care who you are. That's just not something you do – scared shitless or otherwise. "Why did you leave me?" I ask quietly.

Damon's head falls forward then, and he looks lost in thought; eventually he lets out a long exhale. "It had nothing to do with the twins, Elena." Glancing up at me, his entire demeanor changes. "Speaking of which, I need to tell you some-"

"But –"

"But nothing. Believe me, Elena, I get how that must have looked...but I _wasn't_ running out on you. I should've let you know where I was going, but like I said yesterday, I panicked. I'd just found out my girlfriend, who may or may not be pregnant with my baby, is now having two of them. I jumped to the first thing on my mind and I bolted to take care of that issue."

_The fuck? He's not making any sense! _"Yesterday?" I ask, obviously confused. He _had_ said 'yesterday' right? "Have I been out that long?"

Damon gives me a small nod. "You've been out for a little while, yeah."

"What was so pressing that you left me alone in an exam room?" I can't stop the bitterness in my tone from introducing itself.

He flinches, but shuffles the insult to the side. "I don't think we should discuss that right now. There's something I need to talk to you about, and yes that's one of them, but it can wait. This can't." He slips his hand into one of mine and squeezes it; the look in his eyes instantly has me closing my mouth, halting me from making another remark.

"What I have to tell you…you have to stay calm, alright?" I nod and he gives me a doubtful expression. "Elena, for the babies. You_ have_ to keep calm."

I give a tentative nod, and swallow; he's scaring me again. I take a deep breath. "What is it?" I whisper.

"If you don't stay relaxed –"

I give him a pointed look and just as I say, "Damon, you're frustrating me!" he says, "Your mother didn't make it to the hospital."

I gasp. For what feels like hours, I simply stare at him. I know only seconds are passing but time honestly seems to stand still. I'd_ just_ talked to her. She was fine, perfectly healthy, and then the accident had happened when I was on the phone with her and – "…What? No."

"No?" He blinks in confusion and I nod.

"Yes, _no._ My mom's fine," I tell him, huffing in exasperation. Because she is; she is alive and healthy and she's fine. He's lying. He's simply being an asshole and lying to me. It's the only logical explanation and I'm damn sure it's the only one I can handle right now. "How could you lie to me about this?" I snap. "Telling me my mother is dead? Damon, what's wrong with you?"

Damon frowns and shakes his head slowly with his eyes locked onto mine. He's staring at me in such a way; it's as if he's afraid I'm going to break at any moment. "I'd give anything for this to be just an unbelievably cruel, dick move on my part but," He reaches to brush a stray hair out of my face. "She died en route to the hospital, Elena." His voice is quiet, nearly a whisper as his eyes continue to bore into mine.

He's telling me the truth. My heart constricts as reality begins to set in. My mom's... "No," I whimper, shaking my head, closing my eyes to keep my tears from falling, but it's useless. They push through, and sobs soon start to wrack my body. "No!"

"Shhh," Damon soothes, "Relax." I continue to bawl, running my hands through my hair frantically before attacking my IVs. I have to get out of here. I can't lay in this bed another minute. Damon's eyes widen. "What are you doing?"

"I have to get out of here!" I cry just as Damon lunges for my hands to keep me from ripping out the needles. "I have to get to her – let go! Stop it, Damon!"

"You're not going anywhere," he says with a firm voice, holding my hands down at my side. "You need to take a minute to breathe, alright? I can't let you out of here."

"Like hell you can't!" I hiss, glaring at him through blurry vision. Both of our struggling ceases, but my words don't. "You're not my doctor anymore. You can't tell me what to do."

"No," he agrees, squeezing my hands and running circles over the sides of my thumbs. "But, I'm someone who cares about you and I care too much to let you risk your pregnancy." I blanch, and as I stare at him his gaze softens and turns pleading. "Think about those babies."

I do as he asks, reluctantly, and close my eyes. Frustrated tears slip from them, and I take in a deep breath. _Dammit. _He's right, I have to calm down. I'm in here because of stress and I need to be careful. After the majority of my anger has fled, the only thing left is despair.

I've lost my mom. She's gone…and I can't see her. She needs me and I'm not even able to get to her. My mom would still be alive had I not talked to her while she was driving. I should have hung up the moment I learned she was driving in the rain.

"Elena?" Damon calls, and it's only then I realize I'm making choking noises; I'm trying to stifle my sobs, but the effort's pointless.

I shake my head and look at him agonizingly. "It was my fault," I choke out. "I did this; I'm the reason she's dead. I killed her."

"You didn't," he growls sternly. "It was a freak accident. Elena, you had nothing to do with your mom's accident."

"I was on the phone with her!" I scream, and a millisecond later a lance of pain shoots through my abdomen, causing me to take a sharp intake of air.

"Elena," Damon exasperates, reaching for my hand but I smack it away. I don't want him touching me. Panicked when I fail to respond, he presses. "What is it, what's wrong?"

I take his advice he had given me earlier and try to relax, try to inhale deeply and fight off the pain. No relief comes and another twisting sensation causes my insides to feel like they're morphing into a pretzel. I cry out and something tells me to rip the sheets off of my legs, so I do and at the sight of blood lingering on the sheet between my legs, I gasp. _Oh, no. _"Damon," I whimper in a brief second of respite and when I look over to where he was sitting, he's already gone.

_THAT BASTARD LEFT AGAIN! _Romance hollers after him; I grab my call button, located just next to me and squeeze it for dear life. Thirty seconds later and a nurse comes running in the room. "What's happening?" I cry, staring frantically at the two busy-bodies flying through the area, checking monitors; my levels as well as my babies'. I don't know what the hell is happening other than wanting this pain to stop and wanting Damon to come back. My vision is swimming and I hear something that has enough power to cause the darkness that's fighting so hard to consume me, succeed.

"She's miscarrying."

* * *

"_Elena_," a soothing voice pleads, beckoning me to follow. _"Please…" _My eyes are heavy and wherever I am…it's so peaceful, so tempting for me to stay. _"Wake up, Elena."_ My eyes slowly flutter open when I hear a heavy sigh of relief coming from one side of me, and feather-light touches grazing my arm on the other. "Elena?"

I look over and see my dad's tear-filled eyes gazing down at me, stroking my hair. He bends over and places a kiss on my forehead. "Daddy?" I whisper and I can feel him nodding as he rests his chin on my crown.

"Yes, Laney," he sighs. "I'm right here."

Looking to my left, Damon's still rubbing my arm and he smiles at me sheepishly. He'd come back. Whatever I had been so mad at can wait. "Damon –" I croak, making a move to sit up.

"Shhh," he orders softly, carefully pushing me back down. "You're okay. Just take it easy."

"No," I moan, swallowing thickly. "I'm not okay, something happened. What happened?"

"Mister Gilbert, if you don't mind?" he asks quietly.

My eyes widen at his words. I don't want him to go; I won't be okay without my dad. He doesn't know about Mom yet. At least, I don't think he does. "Dad, don't go," I plead, gripping his hand.

He smiles warmly at me and kisses my head again. "I'll be right outside. I love you, kiddo." I tiredly glare at him and he chuckles as he leaves the room– it's a deep, husky kind of sound I haven't heard in over six months; he's constantly travelling, I only ever see him one time out of the year…it's a shame it has to be now.

Damon's sigh of relief has my attention back on the situation at hand. I was miscarrying…I'd let stress get the better of me, again, and seeing the look in his eyes has me scared out of my wits. "What is it?" I ask hoarsely, my eyes warily watching his every expression.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to go grab Ric, okay?"

"Who's Ric?"

"Doctor Saltzman," he clarifies, smiling though the gesture doesn't reach his eyes. I don't like it, he looks afraid. I shake my head. I want _him_ to tell me what he knows, and I want him to tell me now. I don't want to wait, and I don't want to hear the news from someone I don't know, or trust.

"Tell me."

"Elena –"

"Tell me," I repeat, refusing to budge. "Now."

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them slowly, tiredly; he looks exhausted. I'd wager he's had maybe one or two hours of sleep under his belt in the last forty-eight hours I've been here. It's not healthy for him to be running himself down like this. "Your dad seems like a nice guy."

"Don't change the subject," I snap. He may be tired, but so am I. I'm not in the mood for games.

"Fine," he finally exhales sharply. "One of the babies went into distress after you refused to relax."

"Damon, my mother's just died! I'm allowed to freak out!"

"Elena…" he says, his voice sounding half admonishing and half worried.

"How bad was it?" I ask, letting the subject go and going back to the reason I'm still here.

Damon gives an imperceptible shrug and swallows thickly. "You were miscarrying, but we intervened. You were stressed and it caused your BP to skyrocket."

"What does that mean?" I can feel my heart slowly tear in half.

"It means you're going to be careful from now on. We learned one of the twins isn't growing as fast as the other."

I clamp my hand over my mouth and I'm hopeless against fighting the onslaught of tears. My lip quivers, my hands are shaking, as is my voice when I finally squeak. "But the baby's going to be okay, right?"

"We don't know," he says miserably, gauging my every reaction. Sitting beside me, he reaches for my hand again and I let him take it. "For now, we have to think positive. We can't think that this will have anything but a happy ending, okay?" He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.

We sit in silence for… I don't even know how long. I try my best to keep my mind away from the pregnancy and on something less stressful. Eventually Damon quietly explains, "You're nearing twenty weeks."

I look at him. Should that mean something to me? I'm in my second semester, and I've just learned that I almost miscarried. Unless it's something earth-shatteringly amazing, I'm not sure if I want to hear it. "Yeah," I mumble, looking at him without much enthusiasm. I'm still pissed at him, but I know this is hard on Damon too. "And?"

"And…if you'd like, we could do a paternity test."

Fully alert, I gape at him. "Huh?"

"What do you mean, 'huh?'"

I lose it; feeling anger bubble within me and I scoff at him. "I nearly lose one of my twins, and you want to know if you're going to be tied down to them?"

"Elena," he frowns. "You know I want them to be mine."

"Do you?" He recoils as if I hit him, and shit…I've upset him. "Well?" I whisper.

"I don't know how many times I can say it," he says tightly. "I'm offering you and those babies the chance to know their father, the chance for me to know if I'm their father…don't you want to know?"

"Yes," I answer immediately and groan at the dull ache in my torso; though it's not anything like the splicing pain I felt before, it still doesn't feel the greatest. It feels like I've done a few hundred crunches and I'm just…sore. "I don't feel good."

"You've been through a lot, babe," he sighs, rubbing his thumb over mine. "Try to relax." I nod and close my eyes. Moments later I feel a warm hand caress my cheek and I lean into it. He doesn't say anything, and I don't shake him off. I don't have the energy and with as angry as I am, his presence still manages to calm me down.

"I want to know if they're mine," he admits, whispering into my ear. "I want to know."

"As soon as all this drama is over with," I promise, slowly opening my eyes to meet his. "Not now, though."

"Of course not now," he agrees, grinning when I raise an eyebrow. "It's a relatively safe procedure but not with…" he presses his lips into a tight line, and I nod, knowing what he's referring to. Not with one of my babies' fighting for its life at the moment. My hand goes to my bump, rubbing loving strokes I hope my little champ can feel. "Do you want me to go get your dad while I grab Saltzman?" I'm nodding before he can finish his question.

"Please," I smile and he kisses my hand again before disappearing out of the room.

* * *

"Can I count on him to take care of you, Laney?"

Two days before, I would've said no. _Hell no! _But Damon's support has been overwhelming to say the least. He hasn't left my side and I know I can count on him. Smiling at my dad, I give him a small nod. "He's a good man, Daddy. He's practically a saint."

Giggling at his over dramatic eye-rolling, I continue. "You know about my decision, and why these babies are here." Dad's eyes light up and I can tell he's proud of my independence; making things happen on my own; giving myself the happiness he thinks I deserve. "Damon, though…Dad, there's a chance that Damon could be the reason they're here."

"What?" he gawks, wide-eyed and spewing the water he'd just taken a sip of. "You mean you–"

"Oh, come on," I smile, blushing. "I'm twenty-eight years old. It shouldn't be that big of surprise."

"But –"

"No, 'buts'," I grin. "Damon may not even be the father, but he says he'll be here either way. If it turns out they're his, he'll be ecstatic, otherwise…he said he'd stick around to raise them. He wants to be around."

"You're that serious already? It hasn't even been," he mumbles, calculating it in his mind; I can practically see the wheels turning. "Five months, Elena."

"Glad you can count," I wink and he gives me a pointed look. "There's something about him, Dad. I trust him, and I really, really like him." _I do, too! _Romance squeals with her hands clamping over her mouth and giggling like a school girl.

"He's good to you?" he questions warily and I know his protective-mode is in high gear. I nod. I didn't bother to mention the thing Damon seems to be distant about, the discussions I've overheard him have with Rose, because I trust that he'll tell me like he says he will. "As long as he's treating you right, Laney, then that's all I care about."

"I know," I smile, squeezing his hand. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Elena." He bites his lip, and he's searching for the words to tell me what I had a feeling he was going to say next. "I suppose you heard about your –"

I swallow back the lump in my throat. I don't want to talk about her yet. It hurts too much and I refuse to put either baby at any more risk. "Yes," I say quietly, quickly wiping away the tear that has escaped my eye.

"I'm sorry," he says and I shrug. "I won't go there yet." It'll be something to deal with, but not now. Before I have the chance to say something and before Dad had the chance to apologize again, a man with a scruffy face enters the room.

He's tall and smiling broadly – good looking with a kind vibe. "How are we, Miss Gilbert?" he asks, waving at me with Damon right behind him as they further enter the hospital room.

"Tired," I admit and my Dad temporarily says his goodbyes so I can talk to my new doctor. I glare at Damon and he mouths, 'Be nice.' He knows I'm still miffed over him assigning me to someone else. He starts setting up and I inhale deeply.

Well, here we go.

* * *

Damon comes back into the room five minutes later and sits beside me, leaning back in the chair and crossing his leg over his other while we wait for Ric to return. He gave a brief explanation of what today's appointment would consist of before his beeper went off.

"Apparently Ric got held up in another appointment," Damon sighs, throwing his hands behind his head and resting his head against the wall. "He'll be here in a little while. So?" he draws, barely turning his head but looking right at me with his blue orbs. "How'd it go with Papa Gilbert?"

"Thank you for letting me have my time with him, Damon," I reply with a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. "I never really get to see him."

Damon gives me a slow nod…wow. He looks like crap right now and I'm just now noticing this? His reddened, tired eyes are beginning to glaze over. He honestly looks exhausted, and judging by the way his eyelids flutter shut and snap open every few seconds to locate me, it's a good thing Damon is sitting already because he looks like he's about ready to pass out.

"Go home," I tell him with a sad smile. I hate that I'm the reason he feels the need to stay awake. Poor guy.

"Uh-uh," he yawns with a shake of his head, his lips settling into an easy grin. "Nice try, babe. I'm not going anywhere."

"Damon, you look like a zombie. You need rest, like…a _day's_ worth of rest."

"I'll be fine," he smirks, scooting his chair forward and taking my hand in his. Rubbing his fingertips over the back of my hand he promises, "I'm here until Ric says you can leave."

Speaking of which… "When _can_ I go home?"

He shrugs. "That'll be up to your new doctor and whether or not he sees you_ fit _to go home."

"I want _you_ to go home," I beg, clutching his hand. "You're no good to me half-asleep." Damon stares at me a long moment, but before it has the chance to grow uncomfortable he sighs in defeat.

"I am kinda sleepy," he smirks, adding. "One quick powernap and then I'll be back."

_One quick powernap does not equal a day's worth of rest, dammit! _"Damon," I warn. Before I have a chance to scold him for neglecting his health, he silences me with his lips. I can't ever resist those lips, so I don't really complain.

"It's the best I can do," he quips, giving me another kiss. "I'll be back in an hour or so." His eyes flash to my bump. Watching his eyebrows wave and his jaw clench, his eyes are full of longing. The sight tugs at my heart. He swallows before looking up to meet my gaze again before ducking out of the room.

Damon wants to know if these babies are his. He's pleaded for me to do a paternity test, to learn whether or not he's the father. The thought makes my heart hurt. He cares more than I ever realized, which I thought had been a lot, but what I just saw somehow managed to surprise the hell out of me.

When he comes back, I'm going to tell him that I'm ready to find out too.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Doctor Saltzman asks an hour later, stepping into my room. He still has a warm smile on his face and moves over to the monitors set up beside my bed.

"I'm okay." _Bored as shit_ and, "Tired, but I'm alright."

"I'm happy to tell you–" he smiles, until it falters suddenly, his eyebrows dipping together. Ric checks his clipboard and then grabs the transducer device after flicking on the ultrasound machine. "I need you to roll down your covers and lift your gown." His voice is urgent, but controlled and calm. I do as he asks, flinching when cold jelly squeezes onto my belly. He begins roaming my baby bump, keeping silent.

His eyebrows furrow deeper and his jaw clenches as he continues. _Oh, no. _"What is it?" I ask quietly. "What's wrong?"

"Elena, have you been pain-free today?" he asks, side-stepping my questions and I nod worriedly. Shaking his head, he curses so softly I barely hear it. "Shit."

"Doctor Saltzman?" I grab the wrist that was maneuvering the little machine over my stomach and his ministrations freeze as he finally meets my gaze; the look in his eyes is a terrifying one and I'm afraid to ask, but…something's wrong and I need to know. Shakily, I voice. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm not looking…I'm trying to see if I'm hearing it right." It honestly takes me a good minute for it to click, but my heart breaks in understanding just as he tells me, "One of the heartbeats is still weaker."

"What?" I gasp, feeling like someone has knocked the wind out of me. "No." I can feel painful pricks in my eyes as my vision blurs with tears. "I don't understand," I sniff again with a louder voice, shaking my head vehemently and looking up at the man who had told me such news. "I've been calmer; I should be fine."

I can barely hear him talking because I'm focused on what he's just said. "_One of the heartbeats is still weaker."_

"Can you call Damon?" I barely get out, forcing my voice and it sounds hoarse. I glance at Ric before locking my gaze back on my stomach. "I want him here." _I need him here._

"Of course," he says immediately. Good. Because I'm going to lose my shit if Damon's not by my side in the next five minutes to calm me down. Before he leaves, he places his hand on the door frame and looks back at me. "The baby's weaker right now; if you can't relax, he or she may not survive." My heart stops. I barely hear him say, "While I call Damon, I'd like it if you could try to get some rest."

I could be losing one of my babies at this very second and he expects me to push the thought aside and fall asleep?

_He's off his fucking rocker! _I know that Doctor Saltzman means well. I know that, I'm just being, what's the word…hormonal?

Listening to him, I take calming breaths and close my eyes after sitting back. I can't fall asleep but I rub my hand over my bump and murmur words of love for I don't even know how long. When I hear the door creak open and I feel my poor excuse of a hospital bed mattress dip along with a strong hand squeezing my leg, my worries fade.

A voice murmurs my name. It's one I couldn't be happier to hear from; it's gentle, soft, and I'm just now realizing how much I've missed it. My eyes sliver open and the first thing I see is Damon's oceanic gaze; they're full of remorse. He brings a hand to caress the side of my face. The words and his tone are broken and miserable as he utters a pained, "I am so sorry."

"Damon," I whimper, leaning into his touch and my lips are quivering. I chew at my lower one in a weak attempt to stifle my cries. Desperate to comfort me, he moves me so that I'm still in his arms but now he's lying on the bed, too. With his stroking my hair and kissing it delicately, murmuring soothing words with that mesmerizing voice of his, I don't feel so hopeless; sad and heartbroken over a devastating possibility, but not hopeless.

"Ric said one of them may not make it," I cry, burying my face further into his chest as an arm starts to stroke my back. "I can't lose them, Damon."

"I know," he acknowledges roughly. His voice is strained and I look up at him. Seeing his eyes swimming with tears, it solidifies his promise of wanting to father these babies. Whether or not he is the biological father, this pregnancy means just as much to him as it does to me.

I've been listening to the subtle thrumming of Damon's heart, trying to drown out the annoying beeping of the machines surrounding us. I haven't allowed myself to think about my pregnancy or my mom or anything that can cause my stress levels to rise again. "You were right," I whisper after what could very well have been hours of calm silence. When Damon speaks, his voice lacks the snippy, comedic edge that I'm used to.

"About what?" he questions. His words are heavy with exhaustion. He must not have slept like he promised me. I'm going to kick his ass as soon as I'm in the clear.

"I want to know, too. It matters." I shrug when he gives me a confused look. "I told you it didn't matter who fathered my children because it meant that I would be a mother either way, but Damon," I said softly, squeezing his fingers. "It does matter. I was wrong. I want to know."

His eyes soften as he gives me a nod, and rests his chin on my crown. He inhales deeply, pressing his lips to my hair. A few moments later I tell him, "Please sleep." I feel his chest vibrate and he's chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"You've just gone through what you've gone through…and you're worried about _my_ well-being?" He gives me a disapproving click of his tongue. "I am peachy keen, Elena. I don't want you worrying about me." I can tell he knows I'm about to give him crap for shoving his health aside because he's kissing my nose and climbing out of bed, backing away from me.

"I don't want to hear it," he smirks, interrupting me when my mouth opens. "I am tired, but I'll just go grab some '5-Hour's." He may have won this round, but I'll get him to sleep eventually.

_WE WILL NOT GIVE IN! _

Rolling my eyes at Romance's over-the-top dramatics, Damon brings me out of our diabolical scheming with a chipper, "Can I get you anything at the gift shop?"

"They have '5-Hours' at the gift shop?"

"Yes," he chuckles at my reaction. "So?" I shake my head. What I want can't be bought. I want this baby, _both_ of these babies, to be safe. I want Damon to take care of himself and to get some rest, but he's too stubborn to listen to me. "There has to be something," he smirks. "How about a Teddy bear?"

"I just want to go home."

Damon's grin softens a bit as he walks back over to my side of the bed. "Elena…"

"Don't 'Elena' me. I'm going stir crazy and both of us are miserable. You're going to fight sleep until your brain _makes _you sleep and then I won't be able to relax because I'll be stressing over you _as well _as this pregnancy. When can I go home, Damon? I want to go home."

"I know," he says gently, sitting on the edge of my bed, his hip resting beside my thigh. "You're stressed, I get it. I'm doing everything I can to make this easier, but I need you to hang in there until Ric gives us the 'okay' to take you home. Until then, I really don't think you'll be able to."

I close my eyes and when I open them my vision is cloudy with tears. I practically whine, "Damon, come on!"

Nodding with a small smile, Damon's shoulders sag in relief. "We'll see how the rest of the night goes."

"Another night?" I frown and he actually laughs.

"Yes, pouty. Another night." I grumble unintelligible words as Damon kisses my cheek. It's chaste before he dips out of the room to go grab his energy thingamajigs.

* * *

It's a little past 8 pm, but I'm happy to say that I'm fine. The twins doing better and I'm finally allowed to get out of this hellhole. I went to sleep shortly after Damon's return and after getting checked out, Ric gave us the okay. I get to go home.

"Ready to get out of here?" Damon asks, entering the room while wheeling in a wheelchair. I hate that I have to be wheeled around like some invalid, but apparently it's policy. I'll take it though because I'm alive and the twins are healthy. I couldn't be more thankful or grateful.

I'm slipping my feet into sandals and I smile broadly. "You have no idea how excited I am to sleep in my own bed."

"You have no idea how excited _I_ am to sleep in your bed."

The excited, mischievous look in his eyes along with the waggling of his eyebrows causes me to laugh. Wincing at the tenderness in my abdomen, he reaches for me immediately, but I shake my head and he pauses. "I'm fine," I promise. "I'm just sore." Damon watches me for signs of dishonesty before placing a hand on my elbow and guides me out of the bed, helping me into the wheelchair beside it.

I take one last glance before we leave the room that's been my prison for three days. I definitely can't say that I'll miss it. Squeezing my shoulder, I know Damon won't either. He pushes me down the hall where we wave goodbye to Doctor Saltzman. "Take it easy," he tells us, more to me than to Damon, and then quieter to my boyfriend, a low, "Keep an eye on her."

"Yeah, as if I could take my eyes off of her." I look up at him and he winks at me.

I don't have a chance to examine Ric's words further because Damon's pushing me away from him and the doctor is walking back into an exam room. "Are you ready for the paternity test?" I ask just as he wheels me into the elevator at the end of the hall.

"More than," he whispers into my ear as the doors pull closed. He kneels beside my chair and places his hand on my belly. Damon's staring at it with such love; I know he's already picturing these babies as his own. "You know…" he begins, looking up at me with a tentative smile but with kind eyes. "It'd be safer to wait until after the babies are born to find out if they're mine or not."

I place my hand over his and mutter. "I don't know if I can wait another five months." He chuckles and the sound makes me smile. I turn my face so that I can kiss his palm. The elevator dings and the doors open. Pushing me out, Damon stops us in front of the gift shop. Who would have guessed that the man I'd had an accidental run-in with would grow to mean so much to me now, and in such a short amount of time?

A broad smile spreads over his face and he tucks his finger under my chin, lifting it so that my lips mesh with his. "I'll be right back," he mumbles against my lips before walking into the gift shop.

"Elena?"

I turn my head to stare at his receptionist, Rose. What is she doing on the first floor? She's breathing deeply as if she's just run a marathon; her cheeks are blushed and she almost looks…panicked?

"How are you feeling, Miss Gilbert?" she asks breathily. She's trying not to pant for air and I try to smile at her, though I'm confused as hell as to what she wants, why she's trying to make small talk when I can see something is clearly wrong.

Walking out of the gift shop, Damon's got a brown, stuffed teddy bear in hand and nearly drops it upon seeing her. Snapping out of it, he takes a step toward us, smiling at me when he hands me the bear. "For you," he says tightly.

"Thank you," I reply slowly, cautiously, trying to figure out why Damon looks so panicked. I glance at the woman in our company.

Damon turns to look at her as well. "Rose," he says warily, eyebrows creased and he looks apprehensive as he slips his hand into mine. I have a bad feeling about this, it's the same one I felt when I realized Damon was hiding something from me. "Is everything alright?"

"Miss Gilbert, are you well?" she asks me, ignoring Damon completely. I thought I was doing alright, until she asked me if I was 'well.' What's happened to me is scary and painful and no. No, I'm not 'well.'

"Doing as well as I can for a mother who nearly miscarried," I snap and Damon's giving my hand a comforting squeeze that admittedly fails to make me feel any better. I hate saying the words out loud because it makes it seem all the more real.

"I'm so sorry for the twins' health scare," Rose frowns before her attention eagerly turns to Damon. "I know it's the worst possible time –"

"Then save it for another," Damon growls. "I'm taking Elena home today."

"But, Damon –"

"Rose," he warns. His eyes are electric blue pools of liquid metal and I've never seen him look so angry before. It's clear that he's trying to reign in his temper, but the veins in his neck are straining and his free hand is fisted in a ball. Holy shit, he's pissed. "_Don't_," he bites out. "Not now."

"I tried to keep her away," the woman stresses, shaking her head frantically. "She insists on seeing you, Damon. Now."

_She?_ I've never been the jealous type, but so help me… "Damon?" I question, and he inhales deeply before forcing himself to look down at me. He looks annoyed.

_He looks a LOT annoyed. _"Who is 'she'?" I demand.

"Katherine," he hisses, lifting his gaze to burn holes into Rose's eyes. The way he says her name makes my blood run cold. He obviously has a past with her; romantic or otherwise, I choose to avoid thinking about. I don't need the added stress that I know would spread to the twins.

But I do need to know who she is, and now is the perfect time; I have to capitalize on this opportunity that's flashing in front of me with neon lights. "Damon," I press. "Who is Katherine?" His jaw is locked tight, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off him in waves as he utters four words that blow me sky high out of the water.

"Katherine is my wife."

* * *

_AN: Are you still with me? Please share your thoughts by leaving a review! ~Kate_


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN:** Holy Damon's crow! You all continue to amaze me. Thank you! I almost didn't get this out to you on time - my internet refuses to work on Fridays (weird, right?), but I took a risk and started unplugging a bunch of things and luckily on the second try I managed to restart the modem. Woot! So, I swear I tried to make this a shorter chapter, but alas, it is not. Thank you to Morgan for all the time she's putting into this little experiment of mine. You _rock_, hon._

_**Warning:** Damon Salvatore may cause a quickened pulse, shortness of breath, and exploding ovaries. Oogle at your own risk._

* * *

_"Who is 'she'?" I demand._

_"Katherine," he hisses, lifting his gaze to burn holes into Rose's eyes. The way he says her name makes my blood run cold. He obviously has a past with her; romantic or otherwise, I choose to avoid thinking about. I don't need the added stress that I know would spread to the twins._

_But I do need to know who she is, and now is the perfect time; I have to capitalize on this opportunity that's flashing in front of me with neon lights. "Damon," I press. "Who is Katherine?" His jaw is locked tight, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off him in waves as he utters four words that blow me sky high out of the water._

_"Katherine is my wife."_

Holy. Shit. _What? _I burst into a fit of giggles which causes both Rose and Damon to give me concerned looks; it only makes me laugh harder. They really had me going there for a second!

"Elena…" Rose frowns and I bite my lip to stifle my laughter.

"Babe?"

"You two are hilarious," I giggle, waggling my finger at them. "Seriously. You got me!"

"Damon _is_ married, Elena."

"Rose," Damon snarls, his hands balled into tight fists at his side.

I blink at them before it finally hits me like a freight train. "Excuse me?" I gasp; feeling like the wind has just been knocked out of me. They weren't kidding. They were...serious? I try to inhale but I can't pull any air into my lungs. I must have misheard him. Surely, I've misunderstood because there is no way in hell Damon was saying what I thought he was saying. "You," I breathe. "You're _married_?"

"Let me explain," he answers immediately with a frantic shake of his head and then mutters an angry curse. He shoots an angry glare at Rose. "Are you kidding me?" he shouts at her.

"Don't yell at her, Damon! You're just pissed off because you fucked up and got caught," I admonish. Damon's angry gaze flits to me and then just as quickly darts back to the girl with the short layered bob.

"What was I supposed to do?" the woman sighs. She doesn't even seem to be phased, she actually seems rather tired, relieved to have this out in the open. How long have they been fighting about this?

"You were supposed to wait for us to be alone," Damon growls. "Elena wasn't supposed to know."

"Elena is_ right_ here," I hiss, earning a guilty look from Rose and an annoyed one from Damon. I can't believe I ever had ill feelings toward that woman and I _cannot _believe what I'm hearing right now. I knew there was something he'd been hiding from me, and this is it.

Turns out Mister Perfect has one hell of a flaw: he's married. And I'm…holy crap.

I'm the other woman.

Rose inhales deeply, giving Damon a pointed look as she tells him, "She's coming up here if you're not in room 303 in the next two minutes."

With that, Rose looks at me sympathetically and I want to cry. I've never been so mortified in all my life. He's been cheating on his wife with me for the better part of four months. Giving Damon one last disappointed shake of her head, she turns around, walks away and disappears around the corner.

…_What the fuck just happened?_

Damon stands there like a stone statue before spurring into action, immediately turning and reaching for me. I honestly can't bear to look at him; the mere sight of his face makes me nauseous. I'm choking back tears and bile and I hear Damon curse when I turn my attention elsewhere with a sharp movement of my head. I decide to focus on the mosaic wall that's been designed for the pediatric wing; it's a beautiful distraction.

"Elena," he says desperately, but I will not look at him. "Elena, I…"

"I should leave," I cut him off with a clipped tone. He comes into my vision, and I try my hardest to not look into the depths of his cerulean orbs; they'll suck me right in. His eyebrows waver and he tries to protest, reaching for me again, but I smack his hand away. "I should just leave. I don't want you to get in trouble with your wife." He doesn't move and I'm getting pissed off. "Move, Damon. Now."

"You have to let me explain," he says almost pleadingly and I can hear his voice break, but as I've already told him, I can't even look at him. "This isn't...it's not what you're thinking, I swear."

"Oh, it's not?" I ask harshly, clenching the wheel-grips of my wheelchair, prepared to take myself to my cab. "How can it possibly not be what I'm thinking? You have got to be fucking kidding me, you're married! You've been having an affair with me. We've been having an affair," I gasp as it suddenly hits me. "I'm a whore!"

"You're not a whore," Damon growls. I go to wheel myself away, but his hands grip the arm rests, halting my movements. "Elena, stop. You need to calm down." His irritated gaze softens as he implores me. "Just…just give me five minutes–"

"I gave you four months!" I snap. Taking a quiet breath, remembering I've just been cleared to go home and not wanting to be readmitted, I grit my teeth as I utter. "You're lucky I'm pregnant, because if I wasn't I would beat the living–"

"Damon!" Our heads whip in the direction of the call. A woman with long, dark hair and eyes as furious as a tempted bull is walking hastily towards us. She's wearing a scowl and there's practically smoke blowing out of her ears.

"Elena, listen to me," Damon quickly says. "Whatever I say to her, I need you to ignore it. Do you understand?"

"Why?"

"Because I have no idea what sort of crap she's about to lay on me."

_Like the crap you fed me for nearly twenty weeks? _I don't even respond to him. I can't. The only thing I'm capable of doing at the moment is glaring at him through my tears, trying to keep them from falling as Damon's secret finally approaches.

"Where the hell have you been, Damon?" Katherine hisses.

"Working."

"I haven't been able to reach you. Did you even hear me calling you?"

"Nope. That's what happens when you put your phone on silent."

"Well, what if something were to happen to one of us?" She strokes Damon's arm and she snuggles against him. "I miss playtime," she purrs, her emotions flipping 180 degrees. "It's been way too long." I can't bear to watch his reaction to the intimate move because it would be more than I can take.

He says coldly, "We haven't done that in months, Katherine."

"Who is this?" she asks, ignoring him completely to glance at me before I can make my sneaky getaway. _Goddammit. _"Don't be rude, Damon. Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"Elena," he says roughly. "This is…this is my wife, Katherine." He glares at her before his eyes snap back to mine. Not looking away from me, his eyes soften. "Katherine, this is Elena." He almost reaches for my hand, which causes me to panic slightly – is he insane? – before thinking better of it.

"So you're the one he can't shut up about."

My jaw drops but I quickly pick it up off the floor. He told her about me? Katherine immediately relaxes and gives me a smile before intertwining Damon's fingers with hers. He hasn't told her everything apparently. "Congratulations, Elena. When are you due?"

At that moment, I realize Damon and I had never discussed my due date. If I'm twenty weeks next month and if I make it to forty weeks – the ideal scenario – then… that would make it sometime in the summer? I shrug. It's not really any of her business.

_Hell no, it's not! _Rage is back, fueled by the bitch who keeps touching my man.

"Mid-June," Damon jumps in, his eyes flitting from his wife to me. Summer babies. The thought warms my heart and I choose to latch on to that feeling of hope; something to look forward to instead of facing this painful experience.

Katherine's eyes light up at the revelation. "Oh, that's nice. Might be a bit hot for labor, yeah?" Then she looks to Damon. "I want kids. Why haven't we started trying yet?"

His jaw visibly clenches and he shakes his head. "I'm too busy for kids. I don't want them, Katherine."

My heart sinks at the convincing look in his eyes when he speaks to her. _Remember what he was talking about. Ignore the lies he's sending her. He's putting on a show for Katherine. _Something inside continues to whisper, _he doesn't want them with her. He wants them with _you_._

I fight with everything inside of me not to rip her apart when she shrugs and reaches up on her toes to kiss his cheek. She irks me. But of course she's going to be all lovey dovey with him; she doesn't know about our affair and I can't blame her for being clueless. Suddenly, it clicks that he's not actually mine.

He's never been mine.

"How did you two meet?" she asks me.

Shortly he answers, not letting me speak. "My brother introduced us."

I can't be here anymore. He looks at me when he hears a strangled gasp. Apparently it came from me.

"Are you alright?"

I suck in a shaky breath and nod to the woman who's helping Damon blow my world apart, frantically trying to keep these damn tears from leaking everywhere. "I'm fine, I'm just…I'm not feeling all that well." Lie. I'm totally lying. I'm not fine and I want to rip their heads off; her innocence – which, again, I can't really blame her for – and his making it seem like I'm just another girl he's examined and watched over during yet another pregnancy. "I'm sorry," I chuckle weakly, choking back sobs. "I have to go."

Damon's giving me a desperate countenance, looking at me with pleading eyes, and it appears he's begging me not to leave him alone with her. I've gotten so good at reading him, but then I remember I couldn't even figure out the fact that he was married; despite the fact that the signs were there all along. He said he left our first night together for work, but it was most likely so that he could be there when Katherine woke up. He hadn't called me because he'd been so swamped with his job…though it was probably because he'd been too busy impaling Katherine. He always had excuses for being late to an appointment and he always…

Damon _never_ let on and I _never_ questioned him. Sure, I had doubts, the little voice in my head screaming something wasn't right – why the fuck didn't I listen to it? – but I never flat out asked him if he'd ever lied to me before. It's somewhat a normal question to ask in a relationship, but I trusted him. That's what hurts the most. I trusted him and now…now, I can't bring myself to care. He's lost my trust and I just want to get out of here. I want to leave.

"Elena," he whispers brokenly, shaking his head just drastically enough so that his wife misses the action…but not me.

I place my hands on the wheelchair's handles and back away so I can maneuver around them. His eyes widen when he realizes what I'm doing. He goes to move, but I shake my head and he freezes. And despite the ache, I declare, "Goodbye, Damon."

* * *

My dad is waiting for me when I get home, and helps me out of my cab. He pays the driver, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as helps me through the front door and to my couch. I am nothing short of exhausted. "Laney," he sighs, sitting beside me and wiping away my tears. "Forget about him. He's an idiot."

I pause at that. I never told Dad about Damon's marriage – my part as his mistress. The knowledge causes shivers to run down my spine, and as angry as I am with him – I don't want Damon to die. All Dad knows is that I'm pregnant and almost miscarried. "How did you know I was upset about Damon?"

"Because even the strongest people break down when it comes to love."

He sits next to me and I curl into the warm shelter of his arms. I cry into his chest, staining his shirt with tears and he holds me as close to him as possible. I've missed him. I've missed him so much. I'm glad he's here with me because I need him. I can't let my mind drift too far over the thought that someone else should be consoling me, too. As if reading my mind, he murmurs, "I'm here now."

I nod, finding myself unable to answer him. Stroking my hair, he asks if I want a cup of hot chocolate. "Yes, please," I say and look up at him with a small, tearful smile. He chuckles, his chest rumbling and he stands up to make my comfort drink.

Rounding the corner, I realize something's missing. "Dad!" I call and he appears in front of me once again, worry etched on his face.

"What's wrong?"

I sniffle. "Can you make a fire, too?" I ask innocently and he rolls his eyes, relief clearly washing over him. He's been gone for months, always away on business and I'm going to milk this visit for all it's worth.

"Sure thing, Laney." I give him a broad smile and he laughs as I give him a big, "Thank you!" He lights a match and I lose myself in the warmth of the flames.

* * *

My eyes flutter open and immediately my eyes lock onto the fire that has died down considerably. My cup of hot chocolate is sitting there on my coffee table, completely full and no longer hot. Huh; I must have dozed off. Dad's out cold on the chair that becomes solely his during his semi-annual visits. I reach for my phone, half-expecting there to be a voicemail pleading for my forgiveness, but there is none.

That miffs me a little bit. _Bastard._

Actually…no. It's a good thing because I wouldn't have called him back even if he had left a message for me. I look over my shoulder to check the time. It's 9:00 am and my hand rests on my belly. "Good morning, babies," I murmur, yawning as I say the words. I shakily stand up, and I'm careful about moving too fast when I go to stretch.

Note to self: couch? Yeah…they're not so great for pregnant ladies, or at least not for this one.

I slowly shuffle to the front door. It's Monday; I wonder what will be on the front page of the _New York Times. _Will the headline be something crime related? Or since elections are coming up, it could be about something political. Romney or Obama… as long as this country gets fixed, I don't really care who wins. As I turn the door latch, I see my newspaper and a surprise that makes my mind go blank.

It's a letter from Damon.

As much as I'd like to pretend I don't care, I have to see what it says. Ignoring the _Times_, I tear open the envelope and hear a loud yawn erupt from behind me, wishing me a good morning.

"Morning, Dad," I mumble to him as I begin to read.

_Elena,_

_I know how angry you must feel right now, _– Ha. Somehow I doubt that – _but you have to understand, I need you need to understand. You wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, but yes. I'm married…and Katherine means nothing to me. She thinks that we can work it out, and I'll admit I tried to make it work between us, since I'm not the type of person to just call it quits, but Elena, I can't stay with her. I can't do it. I've been working on leaving her since the night I made love to you. _

_You have to understand how much you mean to me. I feel like the world's biggest dumbass because I was afraid that if I'd told you I was married you'd bolt. I had every intention on telling you, but then with everything that's happened this month… I didn't have a safe opportunity. And then Katherine decided to come to my work; you know what happened after that._

_I get it if you need space, I'll give you time but I can't stay with Katherine and I can't stay away from you… I won't give up on us. I won't let you give up on us. _

_- Damon_

I stare at his doctor-esque signature, all chicken scratch for the most part. Shaking my head with a bitter laugh, I crush the letter in my hands, unbelievably angry at him for being such a coward for not saying this to my face. He could've made me listen if he really wanted to, but…damn him.

Damn him and his way with words.

_I can't stay with Katherine and I can't stay away from you._

"You okay, Laney?" Dad asks and I wipe my nose.

"Hmm? Yeah," I sniffle. "I'm fine."

"Then what's got you so upset?"

"Nothing," I lie. I've placed the letter in front of the newspaper so that he can't see what I've just read. "The Yankees lost," I choke, feeling my eyes sting. He'll probably see right through me; baseball season's almost over and my dad's a big fan – bigger than me, anyway. He probably watched the game after I'd fallen asleep. "I can't believe they lost." My voice breaks and my dad's arms swoop around me.

"You're a terrible liar, Elena." He kisses the top of my head. "I know about the letter."

"You _what_?" I gawk at him as he gives me a nod. "How? How could you have possibly – you…you were asleep and –"

_And I can't even form a coherent fucking sentence, that's what! _

"Damon came over a little after you fell asleep. Right in the middle of my game," he explains disgruntledly, raising a brow. I knew it. "He wanted to see you but when I told him hell no, that he'd caused you enough heartache for one night, he showed me the letter." Wiping another tear from my eye, he continued. "I was reluctant to take it, but when he told me what it said I let him leave it on the doorstep for you to find. I'll admit it; I gave in."

I glare at him and I don't give a shit that I probably sound similar to a petulant child as I grumble. "He's married, Daddy."

"To a woman he couldn't care less about," he stresses, gripping both of my shoulders. "Elena, this man loves you. Can you honestly tell me you don't feel the same?"

_Who is this man and what has he done with Grayson Gilbert?_

I give him a curt nod and say, "Yup."

I abruptly pull away from his embrace and stomp off towards the kitchen. I'm suddenly feeling starved…okay, maybe I'm not that hungry, but I don't like how he's trying to see through the mask I'm wearing. He's always been able to read me like a fucking book. I pull open the fridge and chuck the carton of blueberries into the garbage can as soon as I see them.

"You are such a liar!" Dad guffaws, leaning against the counter. Turning around and moving for the cabinet to get a plate, I still when my eyes fall on a glass vase sitting on the countertop. It wasn't there before. "Damon left that for you, by the way. Said you'd know what it meant."

I shake my head, "I do, but it doesn't matter." Going back to my fridge, Dad steps in front of me.

_What is it with people trying to get in the way…particularly mine!_

"You should sit down. You shouldn't be on your feet; I'll make you something, Laney."

"I can do it."

"Sit."

I sigh and take a seat at my tiny kitchen table. Dad whips up his signature chocolate chip pancakes and I'm giggling when I see he's made a face. Two eyes made out of whipped cream, a banana mouth and a cherry nose. "Smiley Jack," I beam up at him and he kisses my forehead. "You haven't made this for me in years."

"No matter how old you get, you'll always be my little girl, Elena." He sits at the table with me and it's then that I remember someone is missing from this nearly-perfect scene. My parents were divorced, but on brilliant terms. They'd managed to come out of it as friends, something that rarely happens when a marriage ends. Mom just couldn't handle Dad's long absences, which were hard on all of us; it's still hard on me when he's gone. Dad picks up on my realization and then his next words are pained, quiet. "The memorial service is Wednesday."

I nod, and pick off Jack's nose, popping the fruit I know my stomach will accept into my mouth. "I'll be there," I tell him, cutting into the pancake before taking a bite.

"Laney, no one would be angry with you if you stayed home." He reaches for my free hand, and gives it a squeeze. "You've been through more than just that ordeal." My eyes sting. Less than a month ago I was with Damon and happy, my mom was alive and healthy, and my pregnancy was going as easily as one could go. Now…well, now everything's gone to shit and it isn't fair. "You can stay home."

"I have to go," I whisper. "She's my mother."

"She is," he agrees softly. "And your mother would_ understand_ if you kept yourself healthy and those babies safe." Closing my eyes, a tear slips and he groans. "Awe, I didn't mean to make you cry."

I shrug, sipping a glass of my water that he'd poured me before taking his seat earlier. "I have to say goodbye to her."

"Is that how you want to remember her?"

I think about that for a moment. Is it? The last time I saw my mom was this past summer, when we were both stress-free and enjoying the vacations we'd both taken without a care in the world. Did I want to see a tiny gold box that now held someone who once meant the world to me? Or did I want to remember her the way she was – the perfect vision of health?

"No," I finally mumble. "No, you're right. I want to remember her as she was."

He nods quietly and lets me eat my breakfast without any more talk of what's about to happen in forty-eight hours. He gets up and prepares his own while I think about how messed up everything has gotten.

* * *

When I call Caroline and demand to see her as soon as possible, she promises that neither she nor Stefan knew about Damon's secret marriage. After the conversation, I check my voicemail and find there's no missed calls or voice messages, but this time there's a text from Damon. It says six words that reach into my chest and squeeze at my heart.

_New Message:_

_From Damon Sexytore: I'm an idiot. I miss you._

Damn hi-wait. _What the hell is that?_ I actually laugh at the name he's changed. Obviously he went into my phone without my noticing. Dad snatches it from me and rolls his eyes. "Disgusting," he mutters, but I can see the amusement in his hazel eyes. "What, are you going to just ignore him?" he asks and I shrug. I honestly don't know. I want to fight for him, but he lied to me. How can I just let that go?

_You can't! _

"It's not like I can trust him. Damon had four _months_ to tell me he was _married _and he didn't. He waited until he was trapped in a corner to finally come out with it."

"But he –"

"Doesn't love her," I speak over him. "Blah, blah, blah; it's the principle," I sigh. "How can I be with someone I can't trust? Two words, Dad: I can't."

"I get," he nods and my eyebrows jump. "Not really, but, I'm trying to make you feel better, Laney," he grins and I roll my eyes at him. "Look, I have to go run some errands; you're low on groceries and detergent. I'm going to go stock up."

"I'll go with you –"

"Sit your ass down," he orders and I flop on the couch. "You need to rest. Now, do you want me to pick up anything for you?" I shake my head. "Do you need anything?" he presses and I shake my head again.

The only thing I need has blue eyes and raven hair and I can't even think about letting him in right now.

"I'm good," I tell him. "Be careful, okay?" He nods and a few minutes later he's grabbing his keys and locking the door behind him. I go upstairs, desperate to take a shower, an actual shower instead of being sponge-bathed like some invalid.

* * *

After stepping out of the shower, I wrap the biggest towel I can find around me and move for my phone again. There's yet another message from Damon and I see it was sent about ten minutes after the first.

_New Message._

_From Damon Sexytore: I know I said I'd give you time, but I've never been patient._

What the hell is that supposed to mean? I sit on the edge of my bed, before finally giving in. Dammit.

_And you were doing so well! _

"_Hello?"_ Damon picks up after the third ring. I'm shocked at how much my heart hurts to hear him speak. I'm not sure if it's because of my broken heart or because of longing. Maybe it's a little of both. Okay, fine…it's a lot of both. Either way, his voice hurts. _"Elena?"_ Another jolt to the heart. _"What's wrong, are you alright?" _His voice is panicked. Shit.

"Yes," I quickly respond, not wanting him to worry over the twins. "I…I'm okay. How are you?"

"_I'm…" _he pauses. _"I'm a mess, to be honest."_

"Oh, good," I snap, grasping at straws to avoid the pain at knowing he's hurting too. "Glad you're giving that a try for once."

"_Elena, please," _he presses. _"Did Grayson give you the letter?"_

_...Grayson?_ Since when is the guy who broke my heart on a first-name basis with my father? Surely Dad hasn't gone Team Damon after the stunt that jackass pulled. I may return the feelings he says he has for me, but I am still livid with him.

"Yes, Damon. He gave me the letter." I don't say anything more. What was I supposed to say? 'The letter makes everything better?' It doesn't. Like I just said, I'm still pissed off. He doesn't get any words of love just yet. A long, awkward silence draws on where neither of us says anything. No matter who speaks first, it's going to be just that – painfully awkward.

"_Okay..." _Damon laughs nervously, as he's the one to break the quiet. _ "Have you read it, yet?"_

Jesus Christ, what is he expecting from me? Oh, right. An 'I forgive you.' _Tough shit. _I can't say those words back. I need to tell him how I feel and then we'll take it from there_._ "Have you failed to remember the reason for your need to even write it?" I fire back.

"_No. I haven't,"_ he growled. _"Though it seems you__'__r__e__ hell-bent on making sure I never forget it."_

"I just found out less than twenty-four hours ago that my boyfriend is having an affair and cheating on his wife! I think I'm allowed a few days to deal with the damage of that news!" I bark. "I'm the other woman, Damon. Do you realize how awful that makes me look, how it makes me feel?"

A pregnant pause on until I hear his sighing over the phone. _"It doesn't mean anything, Elena. My marriage to Katherine was a mistake. It's been a mistake since the day I said I do." _Two beats later and I hear a sultry, feminine voice in the background.

"_Damon? Who are you talking to? My back is killing me; how about you put those magical hands to good use?"_ Then the voice giggles, saying, _"Your wife needs some attention."_

Ha. It's Katherine and her seductive, raspy 'come hither' voice. Aside from my anger with Damon, his wife is pissing me off equally; I know it's wrong to be annoyed with her, since Damon's technically hers, but…whatever.

I'm entitled to my feelings.

"I'll let you go. Enjoy playtime with your_ wife_, Damon," I snarl, enunciating Katherine's title, letting him in on the fact that I know who he's with. I hit the _'End'_ button on my phone before he can respond. He calls back almost immediately.

Sliding the 'answer' tab, I don't even say anything. It sounds like Damon's laughing. _"Come on. Did you seriously just hang up on me? You didn't honestly hang up on me, did you?"_

"I don't know," I snap. "Did it sound like this?" _Click._

I turn my phone on silent so I won't have to listen to its ringing anymore. I can't handle it. I know who it'll be on the other line. The anger I feel when I speak to him surpasses the desire to have him back in my arms. I'll talk to him when I'm ready and right now just isn't that time. I need to relax and decide that a nap is the perfect way to escape all of this Damon and Katherine drama. I curl my hands around my body pillow and let sleep take me away.

* * *

Hearing the front door shut, I'm startled awake. I look at the clock and it reads that it's close to 5:00 pm. Talk about a nap. Yeah; so much for sleeping tonight. "Laney, wait until you see what I've got!" Dad hollers from the other end of the house.

I walk out of the room and make my way towards him and whatever surprise he has. Meeting him in the kitchen, I watch as he puts the groceries away. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. "What did you bring me?" I ask, wondering what's _so_ important to show me that it had to interrupt my nap. "Dad?"

"Come outside," he beckons, taking my hand and tugging me out the door. I go rigid upon seeing the face before me. Looking at me with a steady blue-eyed gaze and holding a dozen beautiful Ice Cave lilies, is Damon. "He brought himself."

_So much for Grayson being Team Elena!_

"I'm just going to…yeah," Dad coughs awkwardly, going inside and shutting the door.

I can't believe this. He tricked me. My father actually tricked me out of my own house and is trying to play matchmaker. I feel so betrayed.

Damon takes one step forward and gives me a small, lopsided grin. "Hey," he says almost shyly.

Shy Damon. I never thought I'd see the day. I cross my arms over my chest, feeling extremely bare. I should have worn my pink, fuzzy robe instead of my tank top and pajama bottoms. I continue to stare at him. "I don't have anything to say to you." I wait for him to speak before saying anything more.

He nods slowly, rocking back on his heels, and I know he feels the blaring tension I'm sending his way. I stare down at his hand, that oh so important hand, and see it sans wedding band. "Where's your ring?" I ask, momentarily forgetting I didn't want to engage in conversation with him.

"I told you," Damon sighs, taking another step. "My marriage means nothing to me. It's not even a real marriage, Elena. I don't love her; we're only tied by the law."

"So it was a _legit_ minister," I assume. "Your marriage is the real thing, huh?"

Damon nods. "Again, only by law. She was a stupid, _stupid_ mistake. I avoid home as much as possible. I stay out late and go to bars while she's out canoodling with other guys. We share nothing in common. She's got a mean streak a mile long; she's vindictive and selfish. She's conceited and," he steps forward as his voice cracks. "She's not you."

"You're so casual about it now," I tell him, my throat tight to keep from crying. I hate crying. I'm always crying – damn hormones. "I don't understand; it's coming out so easily for you now. You didn't tell me this sooner because…why?"

Gripping his neck, he looks up to the sky, as if looking to God to get him out of the hole he's dug himself in. Finally bringing his gaze down to mine, he shakes his head. "I have no fucking idea."

"In the letter you said that you didn't want to tell me because of everything going on lately. That I understand, but you've been married for how long? And you could have told me before we even had sex that night, Damon." I call him out on it and the look on his face tells me he knows he's been busted. "Why didn't you fess up? Huh?" I ask, growing angrier by the second. He had all that time and he stayed silent. "You had plenty of chances to. You could have told me on the drive home that night we…you could have told me…"

"I told you, I don't _know_," he says desperately. I need to sit down so I park myself on the little wooden swing on my porch. He sets my bouquet on the white banister. Gauging my barely-there reaction, he apparently decides it's safe to sit beside me.

Until I reel back and slap him when he looks at me.

"I deserved that," he mutters, rubbing his cheek giving me a nod of approval. I didn't need it, but at least he knows he's fucked up.

"Damn right you did. How did Katherine take the news when you told her you were leaving her for your pregnant mistress?" God, I feel like such a tramp when those words come out of my mouth.

He glares at me, but there's pain lingering in those blue depths. He doesn't like the title I've given myself either. "Elena, you're not my mistress, I –"

I laugh once, humorlessly, and stand up from the swing with every intention of going inside and slamming the door in his face.

"What, you're not going to let me explain?" he scoffs, gripping my wrist and keeping me from walking inside. His touch still sets my skin on fire.

"You keep saying 'I don't know,' that you don't know why you didn't just come out with it. You don't have answers to give me, Damon and I don't want to listen to you come up with excuses," I growl, ripping my arm out of his grasp. He runs a hand through his hair and flops back down on the swing. "Maybe you'll have an answer to this, though. Tell me, are you ever planning on leaving Katherine?" His lips form a tight line and he doesn't answer my question…verbally that is. He did physically though and it hurts like a bitch.

"It's not that simple."

"Easier said than done, is that it?" One of my hands rests on my belly and the other gestures for him to get out of here. "I'd like you to leave."

"Elena, no…"

"_Damon_," I plead shakily. I need to get this out; I can't crumble here in front of him. "You said you don't love her, and that she means nothing to you, but you're still with her?" I shake my head at him and tears blur my vision. "How does that make sense? It doesn't! So I'm going to do what I have to do, for my own sanity and the health of these babies. I have no choice." My throat tightens painfully again, as I'm trying to fight back yet another flood of tears. "I'm sorry, but I refuse to be a home-wrecker. I can't do it, Damon."

"I don't love her!"

"Then prove it!" I glare at him and I'm powerless to stop the angry tears that are now coursing down my cheeks. I don't know how I'm keeping it together right now and I don't know how I'm staying as calm, albeit loud, as I am. "Actions speak a lot fucking louder than words, Damon! If you love me and not Katherine, you'll end it with her. If not, then it has to be over."

"Like hell it does," Damon snarls, and then he's standing up and storming towards me. His hands tangle in my hair and he bends down to capture my mouth. I resist him.

Or at least I try my damnedest to.

His kisses have always been addicting, sensual, and this is all of that with a note of urgency and…and I'm kissing him back. _Shit, shit, shit!_ This is not how I wanted this interaction to go. I was supposed to hold my own, stand firm, and here I am like a fucking puddle of melted chocolate in response to the way his mouth moves with mine.

I'm not holding my own. I'm not standing firm. His kisses have the absolute _opposite_ effect on me.

"I won't let that happen," he murmurs against my lips. "I love you, Elena." One of his hands ghost lightly down my spine and causes me to shiver. I've missed his touch, but when I think about Katherine and his four month-old lie, my body stills. I don't want to think he's lying, but what else am I _supposed_ to think? I shake my head, open my mouth to say something, but he's silencing me with another kiss.

When he finally releases my lips, he presses his forehead to mine. "You say that," I whisper breathlessly, dropping my gaze to a safer location, one that won't burn me with an intense stare. "But how am I supposed to believe anything that comes out of your mouth?"

"You have to believe it. And you do," he says, his voice a soft caress as his fingers rest on the small of my back. His other hand moves to touch the side of my face and his thumb sweeps across my cheek, over my lips and hooks under my chin to lift my face to meet his gaze. "I love you, and I think it's about time you admit it to yourself that you feel the same way."

I can't wear the mask anymore. I'm not strong enough to keep wearing it. So with a small nod, I let it fall. "I do," I cry. My voice is nearly a whimper; a pathetic whimper. "That's why what you've done is so painful for me. You lied to me, Damon. You convinced me that not all men were scum, and here is this giant lie telling me otherwise. You broke my heart!"

Damon winces at my words. "I'll make it up to you," he promises, letting me escape from his hold as his hands flop to his side. "I'll fix this, Elena. I can't lose you."

"Then you know what you have to do to ensure that you don't."

Damon swallows thickly, looking like he has more to say, but ultimately agrees with my decision with a signature crooked smile. He gives me a delicate kiss on my cheek, which I allow. His lips linger on my skin, but before I can pull away, he does so first. A trace of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth before he turns around and walks down the steps towards his car; his swagger is back in full force. As I open my door, I hear Damon's voice call out my name and I look over my shoulder, telling him I'm open to hearing what he has to say.

"Make sure those flowers get some water," he demands softly with a sideways grin. With that he gets into his baby blue Camaro and drives away.

When I can no longer see his vehicle I grab the lilies, enter my home and sag against the door in exhaustion. I don't think it'll be any trouble falling asleep tonight because I already need more of it. This emotional rollercoaster is seriously wearing me out, dragging me down, and yeah... I need to sleep. I trudge straight to my bedroom after placing the flowers in the vase Damon gave me while ignoring my dad's words of concern. I crawl into my bed, pull the covers up to my chin and pass out seconds later.

I'm totally and blissfully unconscious, and the only dream I have is of Damon cradling one of the babies. He's smiling, pacing the room with a little boy in his arms, mumbling something I can't quite hear. I hear the word 'Momma' and 'beautiful' and can't catch the rest of it. Damon's walking back and forth, patting his back and waiting for him to burp. The sight makes my heart hurt in the best way possible. I don't know if he's the babies' biological father, but it doesn't matter.

Regardless of what is happening between Damon and I right now, he is a father in every way that counts.

* * *

He's gone again. He went on another business trip, and though my dad swore to me that he'd call the second he got to the airport and again when he got home, I couldn't stop my panic for the twelve hours of silence until he called saying he'd made it safely. I miss him already and I don't know how I'm going to go another six months before seeing him again because he's been my rock for four weeks.

It's been just over a month since Damon and I had our not-so-quiet interaction on my front porch. A lot was revealed and a lot was left unresolved; we've texted every now and then, but talking on the phone is still too painful for me. I wish I wasn't such a wimp; I wish I could just get over it and talk to him in person, but all that I can give him is faceless communication via text messaging. He asks me about the babies and I have no trouble keeping him up to date when it comes to them during my fifth month of pregnancy. Then the question about how I'm doing comes up and I tell him that 'I'm fine.'

Even though we both know that I'm the furthest thing from it.

I miss the way he makes me laugh, the way he imitates Ricky Ricardo and I miss the way he holds me close to him at night. I miss _him_. I miss him for a thousand reasons, but there's still one lingering reason why I can't allow myself to let him back in. My trust with him wasn't just broken when I learned he kept his marriage from me, it was shattered. It wasn't a measly secret like, 'Your flower vase didn't accidentally fall off the counter and break, I threw it out because it was ugly' sort of thing. He broke my heart when I'd learned he was married to another woman. Damon is married and he's been married for six months and I never knew. I had a feeling he'd been hiding something from me, but I never could've imagined it'd be this.

"_I don't love her!"_

The memory of his words relating to Katherine play like a broken record in my mind and even though a part of me believes him, a bigger part says if he loves me like he says he does, he'll leave her; he'll find a way to divorce Katherine. If someone's not happy in a relationship, due to religion or falling out of love, or _whatever_ the reason…there are always ways to break free.

I brush through my locks as I stare at myself in the mirror. My belly has grown significantly and it reminds me that I'm running out of time to celebrate the twins; I hear that not all pregnancies with multiples make it to forty weeks. Since I told Caroline this tidbit, she's been demanding that I let her throw the twins a baby shower and I decide this is the perfect time to plan with her. She's wonderful for a distraction.

I hear my front door open and determined footfalls quickly moving until I hear Caroline calling my name. When I walk into the dining room, she's seated at the table, patting the seat next to hers. I sit beside her when she asks, "Is he still with the slut?"

"Caroline," I warn tiredly. "I don't want to talk about Damon, okay?"

"Well, we have to _talk_ about it," she presses and I run a hand through my hair in frustration. She sighs heavily. "I'm sorry, Elena, but it's not healthy to bottle everything! You don't want to end up in the hospital again, do you?" I flinch and she bites her lip. "Sorry," she apologizes again. "I just...Stefan and I are both blown away. Not even his _brother_ knew about that marriage." Trying to lighten the mood she laughs. "How embarrassed is he if he has to keep the wench a secret? She must be a dog."

"Caroline, no," I shake my head. "She's actually quite attractive. And watch the name calling, you have little ears that can hear you." Actually, that's probably not true, but whatever.

Rolling her eyes, my best friend shrugs. "If it makes you feel any better, Stefan let him have it! We both did."

I don't want to hurt her feelings by telling her that knowing this doesn't really help, so I don't say anything. I appreciate the attempt, and I know she's just trying to make this easier on me. I ask, "Have you talked to him since?"

"No!" she shouts, looking horrified. "I'm not talking to that man-whore!" Her reaction makes me smile a little and then she continues. "He hurt you; of course I haven't talked to him. But Stefan has been."

"I thought you said he was pissed."

"Oh, he is, Elena…he's embarrassed that he encouraged you to go after him. But Damon's his brother; he won't cut him out of his life. Anyway, Stefan says he's acting weird."

That catches my attention. "What do you mean he's acting weird? Is he okay?"

"I don't know, I guess he's being mopey and not going out as much?" Caroline then mimics her fiancé's voice and says, 'I don't know what's wrong with him. He's not Damon.'" She continues to speak, but I can't really hear anything else; her words nearly drown out and I'm not listening anymore.

Admittedly, what she told me before I tuned out tugs at my heartstrings. As angry and hurt as I am with what's he's done, I could never hate him and it does bug me that he's not okay. I don't realize I'm crying until Caroline laughs sadly. "Oh, don't cry, Elena! I'm sorry; I kind of got carried away. Let's do what we planned on doing and plan the shower, okay?"

I wipe my tears – damn these hormones – and nod. "It's okay. Yeah, let's do that."

* * *

I wake up the next morning and I feel a ton better; I actually have something to focus on. The shower's been set for April 18th. I'll be in my seventh month and we've settled on the types of games the guests are going to play. Caroline is in charge of the guest list and I'm thrilled that I don't have to worry about anything except showing up. I thank God I have a friend like her in my life.

Out of habit, I reach for my phone and see a text message.

_New Message:_

_From Damon Sexytore: Good Morning. How are the babies?_

_New Message:_

_To Damon Sexytore: They're doing just fine._

It may only be four words, but at least it's progress.

A few minutes after getting ready, my cellphone rings and Caroline's telling me we're going shopping. I hope she doesn't drag me to ten different places, but this will probably be good. Something else to distract me; bring on maternity clothes!

_Note the Sarcasm._

"Elena, over here!" Caroline waves. Walking over to her, she squeals and wraps her arms around me in a hug. "How are you feeling? Everything double trouble–related okay?"

I laugh at her nickname for the twins. "Yes, Care. They're fine. I've been fine. Stop worrying."

"Good," she smiles before a blonde walks over to us. "This is Rebekah Mikaelson. She's new in my neighborhood and I thought I'd bring her along."

"It's nice to meet you, Elena," she smiles brightly and I nod.

"Same to you."

* * *

We get home around noon. Okay, so I know I said I wasn't in the mood for this to be a full on shopping spree, but that's pretty much what it turned into, and it turns out it wasn't too bad. They took me to Babies R' Us where I found a ton of cute baby things that I'm now dying to buy for the twins. Caroline was on her phone for a majority of the time, which was rude of her, but oh well; I didn't mind too much because I kept seeing one cute thing to the next. I also saw a mahogany crib that was a brand new design – designed for twins. It was basically an extra-long rectangular crib with a removable clear lucite panel so that the babies can see one another. And I wouldn't have to buy beds for them when they get a little bit older because it can be converted to two single beds for toddlers. I'd have to remember it for when I actually go to set up the nursery because it's honestly perfect.

_Then_ they brought me to Rosie Pope's, a stylish maternity boutique over on Madison Avenue. Bless them. I picked up tons of shirts, bras, dresses, and elastic-waist jeans and pants so I will_ not_ turn the color of a Smurf when trying to button my bottoms. They're not the cutest thing, but hey – at least everything fits and I'm not suffocating.

Caroline and Rebekah helped me find everything I need, and honestly, I felt the best I had since before this whole Damon/Katherine fiasco. I didn't think about it once, or him, which was surprisingly nice. I didn't worry at all, I just had fun with my best friend, and enjoyed the company of a new one.

They follow me inside and carry my bags to my bedroom so that I don't have to. I told them I was fine, that it wasn't a big deal, but they insisted. "Elena," Rebekah laughs, coming into the living room. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the wardrobe of a nun?"

"What?" I ask, confused and Caroline is right behind her. "Oh, Caroline, did you show her my closet?" When she nods, biting her lip to stifle her laughter, I roll my eyes. "Well, Rebekah I'm a lawyer; I have to dress conservatively. All of my non-maternity clothes – for the most part – are blouses and blazers."

"You need halters and tube tops," Rebekah states with a curt nod. "After those babies are born, we're going shopping and getting you _real_ clothes."

"Oh," I giggle, shaking my head. I'd like to add to that statement of hers. "After these babies are born, I'm getting wasted. I'll let Damon take care of them for a night because I'll need a drink…or twelve."

"This!" Caroline cheers, throwing both of her hands high into the air. "Hell yes!"

"I'm in," Rebekah smiles brightly and the three of us take our seats on my couch. "So," she says after a while. "Who is Damon, exactly? Is he your brother?"

"He's…no, Damon is…"

Caroline's face falls in her hands with a groan, and when I see the fear in Rebekah's eyes, like she's afraid I'm going to get too upset, I shake my head to disarm her. "It's alright. We can talk about it. Um…okay. You may want to prepare because it's a long story."

After explaining everything to her, she gasps. "Wow. What an ass."

Caroline nods emphatically, and I'm trying to stay relaxed as I shrug. "He did what he thought was best for me."

Rebekah gawks at me. "By keeping his marriage a secret from you?"

"No." Definitely not; of course not. "Damon wanted to wait until everything was safe with the babies' health and mine. I can't really blame him for…looking out for…me."

"Elena?" Caroline asks. "What's going on?"

"I'm not saying what he did was okay…because it's not," I agree. "I just…think I see now. I was so angry before that I guess I refused to see the silver lining in the whole thing. Which is understandable, I know, but…" My brain is scattered and I'm frazzled by the day's events, as well as the eye-opening epiphany.

Damon was doing what he thought was best for me.

He loves me.

* * *

After Caroline and Rebekah leave, I eagerly change into my new, taupe colored elastic's and olive green button-up. I can't help but to smile. Obviously, I'm visibly pregnant now, but I really am comfortable. I'm not yanking down my t-shirts to cover my belly anymore.

There's also another reason I'm smiling.

I whisper down to my bump, giving it a loving pat. "We're going to see Damon this afternoon. Are you excited?" I know he won't be doing the exam but I figure he'd like to come with me. The dream I had weeks ago, along with his constant reassurance, tells me that he's in it for the long haul. Even though we're on rockier terms, I know his love for these babies is anything but that. I'm not sure if he's the father, but we'll find out in a few short months. I can't believe I'm more than half way there and I'm pretty sure he'll want to come with me to the appointment.

_New Message:_

_To Damon Sexytore: Appointment at 2:00 pm if you want to see how they're doing…meet me there?_

_New Message:_

_From Damon Sexytore: Definitely._

I walk up to the receptionist desk and Rose is staring me as if she's just seen a ghost. "Hi," I smile a little, hoping to disarm her. I don't want her to feel afraid of me. She's done nothing wrong; she made me see what I'd been blind to before.

"Miss Gilbert, you're right on schedule." She quickly looks down to collect the appropriate papers for this appointment and then gestures for me to enter the room Damon and I shared for these visits.

Momentarily forgetting that I'm now under the care of someone else, I shake my head at her. "You know that Alaric Saltzman is my obstetrician now. Damon and I aren't on the best of terms at the moment."

Rose blinks at me and then her jaw drops. "What do you mean?"

_Is she serious? _ "Damon and I are…well," I struggle with how to explain what's happened without getting to specific. She knows everything but that doesn't mean I want to rehash it. "We've hit a bump in the road."

"Because of Katherine," she asks knowingly, and I give her a nod. That's exactly why. "Elena, he doesn't love her."

"So I've been told," I sigh, resting my hand on the desk as my fingers drum along the surface.

"He's in love with you," she tells me. "I've never seen anyone so enthralled with someone the way he is with you." She stands up and leads me to the room where Ric will be taking care of me. Rose goes to give me a gown but when I go to take it from her hand, her fingers curl around the outfit. "Please, give him a second chance."

This is highly unprofessional of her. I don't have time to call her out on it though because she suddenly lets go of the fabric and shuts the door behind her. I quickly change out of my clothes and into the outfit I can't stand before Saltzman comes in; this isn't a languid appointment like it was with Damon's. I'd be horrified if my new doctor came in if I was caught without my top on.

I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for either Alaric or Damon. I glance at the clock on the wall and see that it's 1:50 in the afternoon and my appointment starts in ten minutes. Damon's usually here by now, but he probably got caught up in an appointment with one of his own patients. A gentle knocking on the door precedes the door cracking open. "Is it safe for me to come in?" Ric asks with a smile and I nod for him to do so. "How are we feeling today, Miss Gilbert?"

I could go into full detail about mine and Damon's break-up, but this man is Damon's best friend. I know there's doctor-patient confidentiality – and since this stress affects my pregnancy, it wouldn't be bad to talk to him – but I still feel weird talking to him when I'm sure Damon's already told him everything. I instead choose to play it cool. "Great. Haven't felt better since before I got pregnant."

"Really?" he asks, his expression wary before clearing his throat. I wonder if his question refers to the babies or to mine and Damon's dilemma. "I mean, of course you are. Good for you. Must be nice to no longer run to the toilet to empty your dinner, huh?"

"Oh, I'm still bee-lining for the toilet, just for another reason," I giggle as my hand rests on my belly.

Nodding, Ric smiles. "Just you wait until the seventh or eighth month."

"Really?" I ask. Shit, what happens then? "How do you know?

"Father of three. My wife, Jenna, she's experienced it all. You'll be waking up in the middle of the night with those babies pressing on your bladder even more than they are now."

"Oh, fantastic. I can't wait," I laugh and his grin grows and then he starts to set up the ultrasound machine. "Ric?" I ask and he looks over at me, surprised that I'm calling him by his name instead of by Doctor Saltzman, though he doesn't correct me. I wonder why, but I'll deal with this fact later. "Um…How's Damon?"

He blanches and I've obviously caught him off guard. His face falls before trying to mask it with indifference. _That bad?_ I wonder if Damon is as bad off as me, maybe that's why he isn't here. I know I asked him to come with me for the babies' benefit, and I know he said he'd be here, but I didn't really think about how he'd feel when seeing me.

_WHY DO YOU CARE?_

I'd like to say that I don't, but I think we'd both know that I'd be lying. I love him and I do care about him. I don't want him to hurt even though he's hurt me. While all of these thoughts are whirling around in my head, it looks like Ric is also trying to figure out how to respond. He scratches his head and replies with, "Why don't you ask him?"

Before I can answer, another knock is sounding on the door and I feel my heart stop. It opens and my favorite pair of blue eyes locks onto mine; the sight causes my heart to gallop. Damon takes a deep breath as if readying himself and gives me a smirk. "Elena." My name falls from his lips and I give him a timid smile.

"Hi."

He takes his seat and when he goes to reach for my hand, something he often did out of habit, he pauses and then pulls it back. He doesn't look at me when he does this, but I know he was afraid of me slapping it away like I did the last time.

I have hurt him, but a small voice rationalizes that he deserved it. Alaric tells me to lift my gown, to spread that icy jelly on my bump. He puts the transducer on my stomach and begins to glide it along my skin; after a few seconds I can hear the twins' strong heartbeats and my heart warms. All of my worries fade away so that I can enjoy this moment.

"Everything looks fine. They're strong and growing as they should be. Baby B is only a bit behind, but I see no reason to be concerned. Would you like to know the sexes?" he suddenly asks and my eyes shoot open. I look at Damon and he swallows, shrugging at me.

"If you want to know then you should know," Damon says with an encouraging grin. I bite my lip, looking at Ric and nod. I don't even care what they are so long as they're healthy, but then again I did have that dream where Damon was holding a little boy. That image was so perfect.

"Baby A is…" he drawls, examining closely. "Baby A is either going to be a little leaguer or joining the youth football team; you'll be having a son." Ecstatic, I smile so big I feel like my face could split in two.

"Really?"

"Really." And then he delivers the news of my other baby's gender. "And for Baby B… it looks like you'll have to use your son's baseball bat to fend off the boys, because you're going to have a daughter." My hands fall to my bump and my response changes on a dime. I'm laughing and crying and Ric's handing me a tissue to wipe the goo off my skin. After making sure I'm going to be okay, he tells us he's going to give us a minute so that Damon and I can be alone. He ducks out of the room.

"A little boy, and a little girl," I choke out; my little girl…the one who was in danger a month ago, the one I'd almost lost…I can't control my tears and they continue to stream down my face.

"Congratulations, Elena." I look over at Damon and I see his eyes are shining with tears of his own. He stands up and I think he's going to print off a sonogram but he moves for the door. He's going to leave? His hand reaches the latch, and my insides coil when he twists it.

I don't want him to leave.

"Damon," I whisper but he I know he's heard it. He hesitates; maybe like he was counting on me to stop him. Slowly turning around to look at me, he rushes at me when I give him a watery smile. His arms wrap around me, enclosing me in his cocoon and I'm right where I should be. I'm sure I'm ruining his shirt with my all my weeping, but I've missed this. I've missed his embrace. I've missed _us._

He buries his face in my hair and murmurs, "Dammit, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He pulls away and presses his lips to mine and I'm eagerly returning his kiss. I've missed the soft, plumpness of his lower lip and the way his mouth moves so effortlessly with mine; the way our tongues dance and the way his lips arch to my own. I'm head over heels in love with him and we'll figure the whole Katherine debacle out. We will. Before I get the chance to tell him that, I wrench away from his lips with a ragged gasp.

"Elena?" Damon asks worriedly and I don't answer him. There's a strange feeling I've had yet to experience and before I allow myself to get my hopes up, I grab his hand and place it on my bump. He doesn't say anything, not a word as we feel the babies' movements. His smile is breathtakingly beautiful; his gaze meets mine and then he bends down to kiss my bare skin.

_Great, here come the waterworks._

Right on cue, I burst into tears again; they're solely because of my happiness. He leans to give me another sweet kiss; his lips sensually graze mine until they freeze when I whisper that I love him. His eyes whip open.

"What?"

"I do," I repeat. "I love you, Damon."

"I'm glad you finally admitted it," he says, a brilliant smile spreading over his face. God, I love his smile.

"Let's go home."

* * *

We enter my bedroom and strip ourselves down to nothing, peeling off each article of clothing until there's only skin. I don't understand how he can be attracted to me when my belly is as big as it is, but with one look I know that he can't get enough. He lies me down on my bed and hovers above me, bracing himself on his elbows, kissing me twice before flipping us over so that I'm on top. I lean forward at the same moment he does and his hand runs through my hair.

"I missed you," he whispers, hissing when I arch my body and roll my hips against him. He sits up, kissing me and then I feel his hand trail down to stroke the place that needs him the most.

When his finger dips inside my core, my mouth forms that of an 'O' shape and I gasp as his finger quirks upward. He relaxes and then he withdraws it before sliding it back in and adding a second.

"Oh," I groan when his pace picks up and the heel of his hand presses against my bundle of nerves sending me right over the edge. Well, that's pretty cool. Apparently I can reach orgasm in a third of the time as before I was pregnant; it will come in real handy if we're ever in a hurry.

Damon kisses my breasts, lavishing my peaks with his tongue before kissing his way up my neck to the shell of ear where he licks it. "You drive me crazy," he growls as he guides his cock into my warm and waiting center. I've forgotten how good he feels inside of me, but when he starts to move, thrusting up into me slowly, yet powerfully, I'm accepting him and moving with him like we haven't spent a minute apart.

When I lift myself up on my knees before bending them and sinking down onto him, I feel the coils deep down preparing to spring. His hands grip my thighs and he thrusts upwards again; every nerve ending is a livewire with each movement. _God, he feels so good._

I rotate my hips and hear him hiss, "Shit…Elena." His eyes squeeze shut and holy hell, do I love the effect we have on each other.

"God," I pant, placing my hands on his chest for leverage. "Oh, God."

"It's Damon," he smirks; when his hand sneaks to where we're joined, he sets a furious pace and I'm gone soon after. I see stars behind my closed eyelids while he continues to plunge inside me, driving towards his release and prolonging mine. His forehead presses against mine and when he sits up, the deeper penetration causes me to gasp; I'm ready to go all over again and I start meeting him thrust for thrust. "Again?" he grunts, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when I swirl my hips. "Fuck."

"Again," I whisper.

"I don't know if I –"

"It's okay, you can come," I whimper when he does something new with our seated position. He smirks, seeing my reaction and does it again. "Oh, my God!"

"Oh, my Damon," he snickers raggedly, but when our pace quickens his smug grin disappears. My fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his mouth to mine. He moans into my mouth before calling my name; it's the sweetest thing I've ever heard, I'm sure. We collapse against each other, our bodies slicked with sweat, breathing heavily. I finally lift myself off of him and curl up against his side as we try to regulate our breaths.

"Wow," I breathe.

"That's a good word for it; you gave me quite the work out," he pants, pulling me closer and kissing my damp hair. "Holy shit, am I in a great mood, though." A giggle erupts from me and I grab Damon's hand to feel.

"They seem to be in a good mood, too."

He looks up at me, cups my neck and presses his lips sensually against mine. "God, I've missed you. All three of you."

"We've missed you too."

A few minutes later he whispers, "They're going to be lucky to have you as a parent, Elena."

"They're going to be lucky to have _us_," I correct, reaching to stroke his scruffy cheek. He looks at me, confused, and I add, "You're their daddy, Damon. I don't need a paternity test to tell me that."

I see hope light up his eyes and he kisses me again. "I'm meeting with a lawyer tomorrow," he tells me, pulling me even closer to him. It's then I realize what he's talking about and he has a good point. Just because Katherine doesn't believe in separation doesn't mean he still can't get out of it. I nod against his chest, and my heart squeezes as he says, "I don't want her; I haven't wanted her for years. I want _you._"

"I'm right here." I snuggle further into him and nestle in, kissing his bare chest. "You've got me." His heartbeat is my lullaby and my eyelids start to grow heavy. One of his hands falls to my belly; stroking it with the pad of his thumb, sweeping back and forth and in circles.

The soothing motion carries me closer to the gates of peaceful slumber, but before I can succumb to it, Damon whispers a question into my ear that I can't comprehend. I mumble sleepily what I'm sure are incoherent babbles and in response he chuckles softly, "We'll talk about it later." With that, I feel soft lips on my temple and hear two final words before I finally let sleep claim me. "Goodnight, Elena."

* * *

_AN: There's the fourth chapter. Please share your thoughts with me by leaving a review! ~Kate_


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: **You guys are still being oh, so sweet. Thank you! I know this chapter is shorter than normal, but that's because I didn't want to fill it with useless crap. Everything you're about to read demanded to come out, but refused be poisoned my unnecessary hooplah. Yes, hooplah. There's not nearly as much drama in this one, but something...actually a couple of big things happen. I'm anxious to hear your thoughts! And to Morgan, darling - you never fail to amaze me. Thank you to Carol for looking over that section I sent you. Can always count on you for the medical stuff!  
_

_**IMPORTANT Side-note/Rant:** Going to just avoid discussing 4x04 altogether because I'm not happy with the way Elena treated Damon. Unacceptable. There's a reason my username is what it is. Writing is my escape from the world, a way to vent...and to cope. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.  
_

* * *

_He missed the final doctor's appointment. He just…he never showed up. I tried calling him and he didn't answer; in fact it went straight to voicemail, signaling his phone wasn't even on. My nerves were starting to get the better of me so__,__ before leaving Ric's office__,__ we set up a date for my cesarean-section and I quickly grabbed the first cab that would stop for me in this bustling city. _

_I twisted the key and pushed open the door, and upon entering my home, I heard bubbly laughter coming from the other side of the house. My heart sank and my stomach dropped as I made my way to my bedroom. The door was closed, and I've never been one to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help but to listen in. _

_I heard a female voice – one that I loathed – speak. "I know I said I missed playtime…but I didn't expect us to have it in your…" I couldn't take it anymore. I threw open the door before she could finish her sentence and my blood froze at the sight before me. Damon and Katherine were lying there, stark naked, with him on top of her; sweaty, panting, and looking exhausted. _

"_Damon, what the hell are you doing?" I choked out, feeling my eyes sting as I fought against my tears from falling. "What are you _doing_?"_

"_What's wrong, babe?" Damon smirked, rolling off of her and climbing off the bed. He chuckled as he lazily pulled on his pants. "Not what you were expecting?"_

"_I was worried because you missed the appointment, Damon." I cleared my throat and tried to make my voice sound stronger than I felt. "Now I see why."_

"_What? I'm still leaving her; we were just having…one last hoorah." Katherine laughed at his statement and wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands slipping down to his now-covered ass and gripping it, pulling him closer against her still bare body. Damon chuckled and bent down to kiss her, slipping his tongue into her mouth and initiating what was apparently a goodbye kiss. "Maybe, Elena," he called, looking at me through his peripherals, "You can join us this last go-around. Come on, it'll be fun."_

_I'm unable to respond. I can't move. I'm paralyzed in every sense of the word._

"_Elena…"_

_I still can't answer._

"_Elena, come on."_

"Elena," Damon's voice calls out to me, his arms gingerly shaking me awake. My breaths are shallow and I can hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears; my heart is racing a mile a minute. Tears are streaming down my face and when I look up at him his face crumbles.

"You're trembling," he frowns. I shrug my shoulders and bite my lip, shaken that I was able to dream up something that felt so real. "You had a nightmare, didn't you?"

I nod silently, but when his arms wrap around me to pull him closer I stiffen.

"I'll take that as a sign it was about me then," he sighs, loosening his hold. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," I whisper, but continue. Caroline was right; it's not a good idea to keep things that are bothering me buried. It's better to come out with it, face it, and then deal with it. "I…I dreamt that I found you in bed with Katherine."

"That's a terrible dream," he quips, but his face falls at my lack of enthusiasm. He hooks his finger under my chin and gently forces me to look at him. "Elena, it _was_ just a dream. I'd never do that. You know that, don't you?"

"I know that." _Doesn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch_. "It seemed real though, it felt unbelievably real." Damon nods a little bit and I look over my shoulder at the alarm clock. It's 3:30 in the morning; Damon has to head out for work in an hour. "You should go back to sleep," I sniffle, slipping back into my covers, pulling them up to my chin and rolling onto my side. When I wipe the leftover tears from my eyes, he sighs heavily, not buying my act.

"Elena…" he murmurs; I can hear the sadness in his voice and it pulls at my heartstrings, though I can't deal with it right now. "You're obviously upset, and you're upset with me; we need to talk about this."

"What is there to talk about?" I mumble. "You're married. You've been married. You don't love her, but you're with her. You say you're leaving her, but it still hurts, Damon." I roll over onto my other side, in his direction, but I avoid his mesmerizing gaze. My eyes lock onto his chest. "I forgave you, and I still do, but why did you marry her and why didn't you tell anyone about it?"

For some reason I feel answers might make this whole situation easier, more bearable to cope with. If I had an explanation behind his past mistakes, then it might help the outlook of our future.

"I told you, it was a mistake." His answer is that of a poorly trained parrot, simply repeating the same thing over and over again, incapable of saying anything else.

"What if I told _you _that it's not a good enough answer? You hid your marriage from Stefan, Damon; your own flesh and blood. There has to be a big enough reason to keep it hidden. So what was it?" I'm pressing him for answers, and yes, it is too early to be fighting about this. I'm not trying to fight and I don't want to, but I just want to know. I need to know.

"It's a long story, Elena. It's early." He glances at the time and lets out a sharp breath. "I'm going to go jump in the shower. You should try to get some more sleep."

"We need to talk about this, Damon."

"And we will. After I get home from work."

"Okay."

I can't make him talk to me this second if he doesn't want to, and he doesn't. But you can bet your bottom dollar he's going to give me the answers I deserve. Listening to the water turn on and the door close, I know that he's going to be in his own little world. I could easily go in there and join him, but with this tense start to our morning, I'm not sure if that'd be a good idea. My heart's no longer racing, and though I remained calm throughout the non-talk, I need to stay that way. I'm not sure if I could stay relaxed in a confined space with a naked boyfriend who has the power to turn my legs to jelly. We have yet to have angry sex, and while I'm sure it would be mind-blowing and toe-curling, it's not a good time.

When I hear the flow of water cut off, I know he's done. Damon's whistling; he must not be irritated anymore, or if he is, he must not want me to see that he is. Maybe now he'll be more likely to speak with me. He steps out of the bathroom, bare save a red towel wrapped around his toned waist; beads of water are glistening on his muscular chest and droplets are dripping from the hair hanging messily in his eyes. His content expression vanishes when he sees I haven't gone back to sleep.

"You're still awake," he states, walking to my side of the bed and sitting down on the edge of it. He runs a hand through my hair and pushes a rebellious strand behind my ear. I don't have to say anything because he knows why. "You're such a stubborn little thing." A smile tugs at one corner of his mouth and he shakes his head at me disapprovingly. "Ric's not going to be happy with you if he finds out you're refusing to sleep."

"He won't find out now, will he?" I challenge and Damon's smirk widens. "Besides…we're not finished. We need to talk about Katherine."

"But I don't _want_ to talk about Katherine," he whines. He ducks to place a chaste kiss on my lips and stands up, walking towards my dresser. He pulls open his drawer – as I've said before, he practically lives here – and pulls out a white collared, long sleeved shirt. Seeing my face, he says while buttoning it up, "We will, but not now. I have to get ready for work." I roll my eyes at his excuse.

"Because getting dressed is so distracting that you can't dress and talk at the same time."

"I seem to remember you had quite a bit of trouble talking to me when we were _un_dressing the first night we slept together." When I'm unable to form a response, he gives me a lopsided grin.

Damn him.

"That's what I thought." He pulls on his pants and then kneels at my side of the bed. "You're right," he says, suddenly serious. "You deserve to know and you will. I learned my lesson. I'll tell you everything..." He presses his lips to mine, his tongue tracing my bottom lip, but not asking for entrance; we both know what would happen if it did. We don't have time for that. "I'll tell you everything when I get home."

He pulls away, his forehead resting against mine. I feel his hand on my belly and I hear the smile in his voice when he whispers, "Be good for your mom, rug rats." He opens his eyes and they soften as he asks, "Are you going to be okay while I'm gone?"

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" he presses. "I've got a few deliveries scheduled today. I had to cancel my meeting with the lawyer so I won't be home until later tonight."

"I could be your lawyer," I say playfully.

"Ha. I don't think so." Stroking the side of my face, he asks again. "You going to be okay?"

"Damon," I smile, taking his face in my hands. "We're going to be just fine while you're gone."

"I'd feel better with you having someone here, Elena."

"Damon…"

"Just in case," he explains. "You haven't been alone since you've been home from the hospital, and things have been going well. I'd like them to stay that way."

I can see he's going to push this until he's blue in the face. He's trying to look out for me and I can't really blame him for that. "Will it make you feel better if I called Caroline and Rebekah today?"

"Not really," he smirks. "But it'll help."

I flop backwards and throw my hands in the air in surrender. "Done."

"Wait…who?" he asks, his face etched with confusion. "Who's Rebekah?"

"A new friend Care brought with her when we went baby shopping."

"When did you go baby shopping?" he asks, his eyes brows jumping and giving me a grin.

"It was a means to stay distracted from you." His face falls. I entwine his fingers and give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, we're okay," I smile encouragingly. "You've got me, remember?" He swallows before giving me a nod. "Anyway, they'll keep me busy. You don't have to worry about me being alone." When he gives me a sheepish grin, I add, "I know that's what you're worried about, but you don't have to be."

"I'll admit it makes me feel a little better," he replies with a smirk and his arms rub over mine comfortingly. He looks at the alarm clock. "Time to go. Please try to go back to sleep?"

I frown, and jut my lower lip out. I don't want to go back to sleep and I sure as hell don't want to dream about my boyfriend sexing his wife in my bed again. "I'm not tired," I pout and he chuckles when a traitorous yawn escapes my lips.

"Okay, pouty. Then get as much rest as possible." Damon kisses me and murmurs against my lips, "See you tonight." I nod and when he goes to stand, I grab his neck, pulling him back down so that I can kiss him again. He crawls on top of me and starts placing scalding kisses down my jaw, my neck, and then my collarbone. He laughs when I let out a soft moan and then nips at my ear. "Don't tempt me, babe. I can't be late."

"Fine," I grumble, playfully shoving him off of me. "Get out of here."

"Alright, alright I'm going."

"We'll talk when you get back."

"_If _you're awake," he quips, running out of the room as I chuck a pillow at him. "See you tonight!"

* * *

So…unfortunately Rebekah and Caroline weren't able to come over and when I begged to know why, they told me to get over it.

_Rude. _

I tried texting them and both of them gave vague answers that didn't actually answer anything. Something's up with them, and they know I know it. However, even though I really wanted to push for a solid reason, I chose to let it go.

Oh, well. It makes for a relaxing day on my part. As much as I love Caroline, she'd probably talk my ear off and I'd much rather listen to Lucy and Ethel's bickering. I decide to make some tea and watch a few episodes of _I Love Lucy._

I've honestly lost count of how many episodes I've seen today, but when I feel a gentle nudge in my midsection, I smile. Just as I'm about to murmur my love to them, I hear my door creak open. Damon steps through it and my smile widens. He's home.

"You're back." I look at the clock and it's nearing 10:00 pm. "Wow, you weren't kidding about being home later than normal." I can feel my smile slip when he sags against the door and doesn't say anything to me. "Damon?" I sit up on the couch and then push myself off the cushions.

His eyes are closed and his shoulders are slumped; I see him visibly wince as I call his name again_…__s__omething's wrong. _I cautiously walk towards him, approaching him as if he's a child who has been spooked. Upon closer inspection, I see that he doesn't look good. He looks terrible really; his face is ashen and his hands are shaking slightly. He refuses to look at me. I lightly reach up and cup his face, running my thumbs along his cheekbones. His oceanic eyes slowly open to meet mine, but the look in his tearful gaze is a haunted one. He's looking at me, but I don't think he's actually seeing me. "Are you okay?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I, uh…I lost a patient today," he croaks, swallowing thickly.

"What happened?"

He gives a nearly imperceptible shrug of his shoulders and peels himself off of the door, walking away from me and towards the couch. Sinking down into the cushions, he rests his weight on his elbows and his face falls into his hands. I sit beside him and rub his back.

"Damon, talk to me."

For a long moment, I wonder if he's ever going to answer. And then he finally opens up and starts talking.

"It was all going fine. Her labor was going fine. The birth was text book. All of her vitals were strong…and then…" he trailed off, scrubbing his face in his hands before running them through his raven hair. My stomach drops as he continues to speak. "And then they weren't. She was able to take one glance at her son before her BP dropped suddenly…and then that was it." His voice cracks and his eyes flood with tears before he turns his face in my direction, glancing down at my bump. "We did what we could. We did everything we could, but she was gone."

"Oh my God."

"I kept thinking it was you. What if it was you?"

"It wasn't."

"Elena," he whispers. "What if something happens to you?"

My heart constricts painfully at the obvious fear in his eyes when he finally looks at me. I lift my hand to wipe a rebellious tear that is slipping over his cheek and I scoot closer to him, resting my head on his chest when he wraps his arms around me. "Nothing is going to happen to me," I promise him, but he is shaking his head before I can finish.

"You don't…Elena, you don't know that," Damon murmurs into my hair. "That woman was perfectly fine until she wasn't. It all happened quicker than any of us could believe and then she was just gone. That little boy now has to grow up without one of his parents."

The thought of leaving my babies without a mother is a devastating one. I can't dwell on it for too long because it's too painful. "Well," I drawl quietly. "It's a good thing I'm not her."

"That isn't funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny."

"With twins, and then your blood pressure problem…you're considered high-risk, Elena."

"I know that, Damon, but that doesn't mean something bad has to happen, or that it's going to." His hold on me tightens. "We can't think negatively. I'm going to be fine and you have to believe it. Nothing is going to happen to me."

I feel him nod against my crown. I curl against him as he inhales deeply and says, "I'm exhausted, babe."

"Then go to sleep," I tell him, rubbing my thumb over his.

"But I need to tell you about what I –"

"Damon," I give him a small smile and his eyes soften, losing some of its previous panic. "I don't want you to worry about that right now, okay? We'll talk about it tomorrow." He gives me a skeptical look and I nod towards my bedroom door. "Go to bed."

He nods, but before he leaves he takes my chin in his hand and pulls my mouth to his where he gives me a slow, sensual kiss. "I love you." He kisses my belly twice and whispers, "And I love you, and you." One of the babies kick under his touch and a smile spreads over his face.

"They missed you."

"Well, I missed them too." He looks up at me and asks, "Come to bed with me, alright? I don't want you out here alone."

I giggle softly at his concern. "Damon, I've been alone all day."

"What?" he hisses, anger lacing his voice and igniting in his eyes. "I thought Caroline was supposed to come over."

"She said she was busy," I shrug. "She was with Rebekah."

"That wasn't…," he says before dropping his voice so I can't make out the rest of his words. "Dammit."

"What?"

"Nothing," he sighs exasperatedly. His eyes are fighting to stay open, their previous irritation gone leaving nothing but fatigue in their blue depths. "Let's go, babe," he says, reaching out to take my hands and helping me up. "Time for bed, okay? I want you in bed with me."

* * *

The next morning, I can't believe what I'm hearing. He's finishing up his story about how he ended up with Katherine, about why he kept her a secret from everybody including his family and my mind is honestly blown. "She's blackmailing you?" I gasp. "But…but _why?_" I'm having trouble grasping his explanation about Katherine's trapping him.

"She's got dirt on me, Elena."

"What could be so bad that you had to marry her?"

"It's…umm, it's bad." He laughs bitterly. The look in his eyes stuns me silent. "I made a mistake and Katherine, being Katherine, capitalized on it."

"But it's been years; why did you stay with her?"

"I always planned on leaving her. I planned on meeting with a lawyer to discuss it when it first happened, but then she threatened to out me to the Chief of Staff and I bit my tongue. I sort of fell into routine with her, rings on the fingers but no love in our hearts. It was a marriage of convenience for her – she still gets my benefits, but not for long – and a marriage of torture for me. This arrangement is the definition of a loveless marriage."

I inhale deeply, absorbing all of the information he's just offered up.

"Are you alright?" he asks quietly, staring at me with his intense blue gaze. "It's a lot to take in."

"That was a lot you just explained to me," I nod. "What did you do that she saw she could use to trap you?"

"I killed someone." My jaw drops but he's quick to explain. "Katherine, she used to work at Mystic Falls Hospital with me; a fellow obstetrician/gynecologist. She was in the delivery room with me and long story short, the baby went into distress and she insisted we wait until the mother was fully dilated. I told her we needed to move the mother into the operating room, but because she had seniority in the hospital, what she said went."

"So what was said after the fact? How did neither of you get in trouble?"

He scoffs angrily. "Katherine is a master at lying and manipulation. I'm honestly not even sure what the hell she said to the Chief; I was too caught up in the fact I'd lost my first patient."

"Damon, she made the mistake! Not you!"

"I was still a part of it," he hisses, before exhaling sharply and frowning at what I'm sure is the shocked look on my face. "Sorry, babe, she just…she really fucked up my life."

"So why now?" He raises his eyebrows, so I clarify with, "Why leave her now?"

"I met you. I told you I want to –"

"No, I know that. I meant why now? Why risk whatever she's going to expose – even though she'd get in trouble too – and risk losing your job?"

"Because before all I had _was_ my job, Elena," he says softly. "Now I have you and the twins, and it sounds corny as shit," he admits, "but I could work at Bree's coffee shop and be totally content with it. I told you that this past month has been hell on me. I realized I'd give it up; I'd give it all up for the three of you."

My heart both warms and sinks at the same time. "You shouldn't have to, Damon." I interlock our fingers and he lifts our hands to press a kiss to my knuckles. "She's in the wrong, not you. Why didn't you say something when you had the chance?"

"Because I gave up on the idea of love long before everything happened…and I really didn't want to deal with her," he shrugs. "She said that as long as I stay married to her, I could do whatever I wanted. She started to develop feelings for me, but I got to keep my job doing what I love and I was okay with that." He snorts with irritation.

"You never told her about me," I blurt out and he blanches. "You had the chance to tell her about me at the hospital when she showed up, but you didn't. It was like I was just another patient. You could have, but you didn't."

"And there's a reason I didn't; she's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I sigh, giving him a skeptical, disbelieving look. "That's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"Elena, she killed someone because she didn't want to admit that she was wrong, because she didn't know what to do." He shakes his head at me. "I don't know what she's capable of. I don't_ know_ her well enough to know what she's capable of and to be honest, I'm perfectly fine with being clueless. I don't know what she would do if she ever finds out I'm with you."

I nod and run a hand through my hair. "Wow."

"So now you know."

"Everything?" I whisper and he nods solemnly. "No more secrets?" He shakes his head, keeping his steady gaze locked on mine. "You promise?"

"I swear," he says softly, yet firmly, leaving no room for argument. He then climbs out of bed and treads over to my dresser, pulls open his drawer and grabs a pair of dark-wash jeans.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not letting Katherine screw this up for us. I rescheduled a meeting with my lawyer." Stepping into the denim, Damon says, "I've got the day off today," and then he asks if I'm going to get out of bed, too. When I tell him that I don't have anything to do today and want to stay in bed, he tells me, "After we get this divorce initiated, I'd like you to come somewhere with me."

"Where's that?"

He smirks softly. "I'd like to introduce you to my mother."

* * *

So, Damon did more than just initiate the divorce. He got the divorce papers ready. I'll have to ask him who the lawyer is because I have no idea how we skipped so many steps, so fast. Here we are, though and all he has to do is get Katherine to sign them and then he'll be free from her.

We step out of his light blue Camaro and the crisp winter air of February hits me like a freight train. I wrap my coat tighter around me and Damon walks to my side, slipping his arm around my waist. "Damon," I whisper, as he pulls us forward, making our way to her gravesite. I grip his gloved hand in mine and he looks down at me, smiling. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"Come on." He tilts his head for us to keep moving. When we approach her headstone, I frown. Damon kneels down and pushes the mound of snow off of the top and then scrapes away the ice that's covering her name. Etched into the stone, the name reads, _Rosalina Salvatore: 1960-1984. Beloved Mother and Wife__. _ "She died when I was six and right after Stefan turned two."

He swallows and licks his lower lip before tugging at it with his teeth. "You're going to give yourself chapped lips if you do that." He smirks and rolls his eyes. "What happened?"

"She came down with pneumonia. It was worse than most cases. It quickly led to complications…sepsis; she had a weak immune system." He clears his throat and sniffs, his nose red from the cold. "But she didn't suffer; it was sudden." My heart constricts hearing about how peaceful his mother left the earth and how scared mine must have been in her final moments. "I'm so sorry," Damon says quietly, turning to look at me with guilty eyes. "I didn't even think about what you would go through by coming here."

"It's okay," I say hoarsely, sniffling and looking down at his spot by his mother's gravestone, trying to give him the most convincing smile I can. "I'm sorry about your mom, Damon."

"Don't shirk away your grief, Elena," he says, obviously aggravated and demanding that I face something I'm not ready to face yet. "We've barely talked about what happened since the accident."

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine. This day is about your mom. I'm glad she didn't suffer."

Damon sighs heavily, seeming to let it go for now. "Like I said, it was a long time ago." He stands up and walks behind me, snaking both of his arms around my waist. His covered fingers are stroking the fabric that's shielding my belly from the air. He whispers into my ear, "I think she would have loved to meet you, Elena."

I can't stop the smile from appearing on my face. "Yeah?"

"Hell yeah," he chuckles, kissing my cheek. "You two would have hit it off." He nips at my ear. "Ready to go head home?"

"You bet."

* * *

"You know…you never talk about your dad, Damon. Why not?" I ask as we step through the front door and shed our coats. He spins me around and wraps his hands in my hair, pressing his lips to mine. He shakes his head, leaning in and placing scalding kisses down my neck.

"Oh, you mean my sperm donor? Ha, he's not in the picture. He abandoned us when Stefan turned seven. We moved in with our uncle." He licks the shell of my ear as he unbuttons my blouse. "You would _not_ have liked to meet him," he breathes, causing the hair on my neck to stand up and a shudder to ripple through me. "He was a dick." An impish smirk pulls at his lips and he whispers, "You're shivering."

"I'm still a little cold," I smile, winking at him.

"I know a great way to warm up, you know." He lifts me into his arms, causing me to shriek and laugh. "Though, I don't know if it'll make you stop shivering…"

"Mr. Salvatore, to what are you implying?" I giggle, placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He lets out a seductive growl, pulling me flush against him – well, as close to him as this bump will allow. "This will only make you shudder…and I'm not stopping until you are shaking uncontrollably."

* * *

I look out my window and see that the snow has finally melted away and the flowers are blooming. It's gorgeous outside. April 18th is finally here. I've made it past seven months, and yet I look and feel full-term…which is fine with me because I want these two out.

The last two months have been pretty easygoing. The divorce, according to Damon, has been going rather easily; Katherine's kept quiet, and I haven't seen her around the office since the day I found out they were married. Not that you'll hear me complaining about that, necessarily, but Damon's been on edge. He hovered before, but now he's like a moth to a flame and it's starting to feel smothering. I think he's waiting for the ball to drop. I try to soothe his nerves as best I can, but there's only so much I can do.

Staring into the mirror, I shake my head.

I. Am. Huge.

I look like I'm going to pop. "Damon, do I really have to?" I pout, feeling much too comfortable in my pajamas and slippers to get up and go anywhere. I know I said I wanted to celebrate the twins…but…that's what birthdays are for. It's not like baby showers are mandatory, and frankly, I'm not feeling it today. I'd much rather sit on the couch and watch sitcoms until I fall asleep. "I don't want to go to Caroline's," I grumble. "Can't we just stay here?"

Damon chuckles as I waddle to the couch.

I glare at him. "Stop laughing at me."

"I can't help it," he snickers. "You're like a duck."

"Yeah, quack quack," I mutter, shirking away from him. I can't help it that my center of gravity's all wonky due to this gigantic house of a belly. I can't wait to have the twins so that I can go back to being a normal person with a normal, _human_ walk.

"Sexiest duck I've ever seen," he grins wickedly. "Hey…I have a question for you."

His statement makes me perk up; I wonder if what he asks has to do with his question from that night. All I really remember from my struggling to stay awake that night was that we'd talk about it later. It can't be _the_ question, because he is still technically married; just one signature away from being divorced. "Okay," I squeak; he laughs at the way my voice jumps an octave. "Shoot."

"Remember when I said I had something to ask you a few weeks ago, and since you were falling asleep on me, I never really asked?" he asks with a smirk, and I nod slowly.

"Was that your question?" I ask sarcastically.

"No, that was the prologue; making sure you knew where I was coming from. My question," he drawls, "Is…would you be open to discussing living together?"

My heart jumps and a smile breaks over my face. "We're basically living together already!" I can't stop the excitement in my voice and he chuckles.

"And it's great and all…but when the divorce is finalized, the second she signs those papers, Elena, I want you in _my_ bed at night. Move in with me."

"But…"

"Your house is cute, but it's not big enough for the four of us. Move in with me."

"Damon, I've lived in this home for five years."

"I know, but I want you to live in my home now. We'll make it _ours_. Please, move in with me," he grins. He finishes every sentence with that statement and I bite my lip, roll my eyes and finally nod. "Don't sound so excited about it," he laughs when I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him tight.

"Okay, okay; I'll do it," I giggle, kissing him, feeling my mood lighten immensely. "I'll move in with you," I whisper breathlessly, moving my lips over his jaw, hearing the way his breath catches when I move my tongue over that spot on his neck that drives him wild. I gingerly bite down as my fingers dance along the other side of his throat.

"We're…we're going to be late if you keep that up," he groans, gripping my wrist when my other hand travels below his stomach.

"We can afford to be late, Damon," I grin. "It's my baby shower. They can't exactly start it without me."

I can tell he's mustering up all of his willpower not to take me right now, because he rips out of my arms. Rolling his eyes he tugs on my hand. "Come on, horndog."

"Hey!" I growl, not liking that name.

"Oh, don't get grumpy on me now!"

"I'm not grumpy!" I snap; my voice cracking. I can feel my eyes sting. Why is he yelling at me? "Don't yell at me. I haven't…"

"Elena," he frowns. "I'm not yelling. I'm…I'm urgently suggesting." His eyes soften when he sees tears in my own. "Oh, baby, don't cry!" he laughs, biting his lip when I glare at him through my tears. He kisses them away as he says, "Your hormones are raging today."

I hate that he doesn't have to go through this but I do. It's not fair. I've spent the last thirty-five weeks carrying not one person, but two. I've dealt with morning sickness, cramps, hypertension, mood-swings, fatigue, sore muscles, and dizziness. Not only that, but I'm going to have to deal with labor and birth and…and he's had to deal with…nothing.

"I can't help it!" I cry, tears flowing freely. "I'm uncomfortable and I'm tired, Damon. I'm just over seven months pregnant and being forced to go to an event I don't want to go to. I blame Caroline for not even listening to me when I said I changed my mind and didn't want her to throw the damn thing."

"You love Caroline." He caresses the side of my face, but I move away from his touch. He shakes his head at me and sighs. "Alright, alright. We won't stay long. Blondie spent a lot of time getting this thing ready for you, so let's at least go and thank your best friend."

Dammit. He had to pull the 'friend' card.

A mischievous smile pulls at his lips as he says, "Besides, we have all night for sexy-time."

* * *

This baby shower is different than some of the ones I've heard about. Normally men are forbidden from coming; it's usually more of a girls' day with tons of presents and games. But Stefan's here, Damon's here, along with some of their friends; I'm guessing Caroline invited them so our guys wouldn't get bored. I get ready to stand up and grab some veggies, but Damon gently pushes me back down and goes to set up a plate for me.

Caroline plops beside me and she groans. "I'm exhausted."

"Thank you, Caroline," I reply dramatically, knowing that's exactly what she'd like to hear. "I know you've slaved over this, so thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," she waves her hands dismissively. "You're welcome."

I look at her and see that she looks like she's literally fighting to keep her eyes open. She really does look exhausted. She goes to say something, but then she winces. "Are you alright, Care?"

"I'm fine. I haven't been feeling well lately. Cramps."

"Like PMS cramps, or…"

Before I get the answer to my question, Rebekah sits on the other side of me and crosses her legs. "I know I'm new to the neighborhood and all, but there are lots of new faces at this little shindig," she drawls, her lips forming a small pout. "And there are a ton of male faces; many _attractive _male faces."

Caroline and I nod. She's invited a lot of men actually. It's more of a party than a shower, but I don't mind it too much. Elijah Mikaelson is here. He's Rebekah's brother actually. He's gorgeous and seems very polite. Ric's here with his wife Jenna, and there are few others I haven't met yet. I _think_ their names are Ben, Harper and John, though I can't be totally sure.

"Who is that?" Rebekah asks, pointing to the man picking up tongs and grabbing at carrots and broccoli, laughing as – Ben, I think – tells him something. "Who's the one with the baby blues?" The man has raven black hair, striking blue eyes, and hell no; she did not just lay eyes on him. "He's absolutely fuckable."

"He's absolutely taken," Caroline warns, cutting her off from saying anything more and giving me an apologetic look. "That's Damon."

A smile curls her lips and Rebekah laughs. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you, Elena. I didn't know that was him; I would have watched my tongue more closely." I try not to read too far into the look in her eyes; her smile is bright but I can't quite decipher that look and I'm not sure what it means exactly.

"It's alright," I say slowly and she gets up.

"When do we open gifts?" she asks, moving towards the other end of the room. "After the games?"

Caroline nods and then asks me, "Does that sound alright to you?"

I agree to their suggestion and when Damon returns to my side, handing me my plate of vegetables, we start the baby games.

* * *

We played everything from guessing games – trying to figure out how much each baby would weigh – to trying to melt ice cubes and the first one to melt theirs completely would shout, "My water broke!"

Damon wasn't the biggest fan of that game because I won. When _I _said it, as I was the first person to melt my ice cube, he'd paled and nearly flipped out until I burst into laughter and wiggled my wet fingers saying, "No more ice." He instantly relaxed and let out a shaky laugh, throwing his semi-melted cube into the bucket like everyone else did, having lost the game.

We get around to the game where the men take a piece of play-doh and try their best to sculpt a baby as fast as they can before the timer goes off – why Caroline suggested that, I have no idea. I watch as she sets the clock to two minutes and then leaves the room.

Damon and Ric are the ones who are more into the game, as they're the ones who are going to be/already are fathers. I tell Damon that I have to go to the bathroom and he just mumbles, "Mm'kay," clearly focused on his handicap – he has to build two babies.

Making my way to the bathroom, I feel a small twinge in my abdomen. Normally I would worry, but Damon told me that around this time I'd be experiencing Braxton Hick's Contractions – practice labor pains. I've been having them for the past week or so. After sitting down on the toilet they recede so again, I'm not going to freak out about this. As long as they don't intensify, I'm golden.

Once I relieve myself, I open the door and while I hear lots of laughter and cheering because Ric won the 'craft your baby' game, I hear another sound…one that sounds like retching. I wobble – damn belly – as quickly as I can to the sound, until I reach Stefan and Caroline's bedroom.

I knock on the door, but no one answers. "Stefan? Caroline?"

"Elena?" a raspy voice responds and I walk through the doorway, rounding the corner to the master bathroom. Caroline's hunched over herself, sitting on the floor by the toilet; her face is drained of color and she has a sheen of sweat over her brow; her eyes are unfocused. This isn't good…she doesn't look good.

"Caroline," I kneel beside her and feel her forehead. Oh god, she's burning up. "Care, look at me." Her eyelids slide open to reveal cloudy, dull blue orbs; they're filled with pain and it makes my heart hurt. "Somebody help!" I shout and just moments later the bathroom contains Stefan, Damon, and Ric.

"Caroline!" Stefan cries, pulling her into his arms. He looks up at the two doctors and questions, "What's wrong with her?"

"We just got here, brother," Damon explains, kneeling beside us and examining her while Ric calls 9-1-1. "Stay awake!" he barks at the blonde worriedly when her eyes close.

She frowns. "It hurts," she whimpers, burying her face into Stefan's shoulder. "I just want to sleep, let me sleep. Make the pain stop!"

While Damon's staring intently at my best friend, I'm not removing my eyes from him. I watch as realization dawns over his face and then his eyes narrow. "Ric," he says in a low voice as the second doctor hangs up the phone. "We can't wait for an ambulance."

"Okay, we'll take her in then." He agrees with him quickly on the matter, but asks, "What's going on?"

Damon glances from Ric to Stefan as he says, "I'd bet anything she's suffering from an ectopic pregnancy. We need to get her to the hospital. Now."

* * *

The three of us sit in the waiting room. What had been a day of happy celebration quickly turned into one of immense, bittersweet feelings. The other guests had gone home, while we all rushed Caroline to the hospital. Ric's in there with her though; we know he'll do everything he can.

I feel another small jabbing pain, but when I shift in my chair it disappears. Damon must have seen my discomfort because he asks if I'm okay. I give him a nod and he returns my response with an easy smile. I look over to my best friend's fiancé and see that he's hunched over, the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes.

"Stefan," I call, and he lifts his face from his palms to acknowledge me. "She's going to be okay." I encouragingly nod at him and he shakes his head with green, tear-filled eyes.

"I didn't even know she was pregnant," he mutters.

"I doubt she knew either," Damon jumps in. "Was she acting funny earlier today?"

"Not really." Stefan shrugs. "She said she was feeling tired."

"She said the same thing to me," I add, "She said she was having cramps. When I asked her if they were premenstrual cramps, I never got the answer because Rebekah showed up. Talking about periods isn't something you discuss with everyone, so we started talking about when we were going to open gifts," I murmur. My throat constricts to hold back my tears. I shouldn't have let it go. I should have said something, told Damon or Ric, instead of just passing it off as her having PMS. "I should have done something."

"Hey," Damon says, taking my hand in his. "You didn't know. She's going to be fine, Elena. They'll terminate the pregnancy and she'll be fine."

"What are you talking about?" Stefan asks brokenly. "Terminate it?"

"Ectopic pregnancies are when the embryo plants itself in the fallopian tube. It's life threatening to the mother, Stefan. It has to be terminated. It's too dangerous for Caroline if it ruptures." His brother's eyes fill with tears but he nods, understanding why what's happening inside that operation room has to happen.

"Stefan," Ric calls stepping through the double doors shortly after. He removes his mask and says what we've all been waiting to hear. "She's alright."

"Thank God," he sighs heavily, wiping his face with his hands. "Can I see her?"

"Absolutely."

Stefan disappears with him and it's just the two of us. I release a long, shaky breath that I didn't even know I was holding. "She's okay," I whisper with relief.

"I told you," Damon chuckles lovingly as I bury my face into his chest and stain his shirt with joyful tears. "Stefan's with her, Elena. She's okay." He kisses my temple and after checking on her for my own sanity, we head on home.

* * *

Damon wraps his arms around me, nibbling on my earlobe as I try to unlock my front door. "How are you feeling?" he asks, placing gentle, yet scorching kisses along my neck; his tongue moves in slow circles and it causes me to giggle. I feel his smirk against my skin and I roll my eyes.

"And you call me the horndog?" I question with a cocked eyebrow, hooking my fingers into the loops of his jeans and pulling him into the house. "Really, Damon?"

His hands bury themselves in my locks, and it's his turn to roll his eyes. "You know I can't get enough of you, babe."

I still don't get the appeal. I really don't. I'm huge and my feet are swollen. "I'm as big as a house," I frown, but Damon leans forward and kisses my lower lip, which is jutting out.

"You're pregnant, but you're sexy as hell, Elena," he growls. "Always. Never forget it."

With that, he all but rips my top off and guides me towards the couch. My knees buckle upon feeling the first hint of fabric and I collapse onto the cushions. Damon hovers over me, slipping his fingers into the bump band of my yoga pants, and slides the material down my legs. His ministrations stop immediately when a hiss escapes my lips. "What's wrong?" he asks quickly.

"I'm okay," I breathe, sitting up a little bit and waiting for that pain to vanish. "Keep going."

"Elena," he warns, eyeing me nervously when I squeeze my eyes shut. He shakes his head. "Don't downplay anything. If something's hurting you, I need you to tell me."

"It's not," I promise, but wince again when something similar to a wet dishrag being wrung out twists inside again, this time shooting across my middle. He growls my name again and I clutch his hand in mine, telling him that I'm okay. Thirty seconds later, the pain fades and when I open my eyes, I see the mood is long gone. I pull my panties and pants back up and Damon moves to sit beside me, his eyes never deviating from my belly.

I gulp under his heavy scrutiny. "You can stop staring at me. I may look like it, but I'm not going to explode. It was just another..."

"That _wasn't_ just another practice contraction, though. Was it?" he wonders quietly and I sigh heavily, shaking my head. It was a lot different than the others I've been feeling. His eyes widen; I love how he worries, but it drives me insane at the same time. I _can_ handle this.

"It's nothing." He gives me a doubtful look, seeing right through the lie. "Okay, it's not nothing, but it's not like I'm having the babies this very second."

"I'd give you four, maybe five hours until that happens; you'll be feeling quite a few more of those pains before we need to go anywhere." After a long moment he stands up. He doesn't _seem_ to be nervous anymore; but that doesn't mean he's not freaking out on the inside. "I'm going to take a hot shower," he smirks, swallowing. Okay, forget what I said before. I can totally see he's trying to keep his panic in check. "You know, a _hot_ shower; it's like a normal shower…except with _me _in it."

I laugh, trying to make him feel better and he shrugs, quickly making his way towards the bathroom. I feel bad for him. If it's the real thing, then this is really happening and...and holy shit. I need water.

I go pour myself a glass and then sit back down. Flicking on the TV, I see that _I Love Lucy_ isn't on, but _Friends _is. I'm surprised that it's on this early in the evening, but grateful because it's my second favorite show. I've got nothing better to do – well, actually I could sort through the baby gifts but it's _Friends. _And it's the one where Chandler and Ross arm wrestle; Monica makes fun of her husband because he's making his sex face as he struggles to get the upper hand. This episode so trumps baby gifts. I laugh out loud to one of Chandler's quips, but it's cut short by a twisting sensation that lingers in my middle. It's not extraordinarily uncomfortable, but it's a bit stronger than I've been used to, lasting thirty seconds - the same length of time as before.

Damon said not to freak out, so I choose to try my best to relax and go make some popcorn. When I sit back down, a commercial has just ended. Perfect timing. Phoebe's now bitching about how Ursula is lying to her fiancé. _Poor what's-his-face…he's such an idiot. _Damon saunters out of the bathroom, clad in only his dark-wash jeans. He's got his signature smirk and a soft gaze that makes me grateful I'm already sitting down.

"You're such a tease," I giggle. "You really couldn't just put a shirt on?"

"Nah," he snickers. "I would much rather see that look on your face." Flopping down beside me, he grabs a handful of popcorn and kisses my shoulder. "How are you doing?"

"I had one contraction while you were in the shower."

"How far apart was it from the one you had with me; did you keep track?"

"Should I be keeping track?" I ask. I know it's a silly question, but I'm starting to freak out. "I think...I think it was nine minutes from the one I had with you? I don't know. I can't be sure!"

He furrows his eyebrows and nods. "Okay, yeah," he says airily. "I don't think we'll have to worry just yet. First-time labors are typically slower-going...what's this?" he asks, gesturing to the screen before tossing a few pieces into his mouth.

"_Friends._ You've never seen it?" I can't believe we're talking so casually. I'm in the beginning stage of labor and we're talking about a fucking sitcom!

"Obviously not, if I'm asking," he quips, snapping his attention to me, frowning when I suddenly gasp. Damon immediately sits up and cautiously asks if I've spilled my drink. He lifts his hand from the cushion and his fingers are soaked. "Elena," he questions in a low voice when I shake my head.

_Oh, my God. _

My voice is a whisper as I tell him, "I think my water broke."

* * *

_AN: Surprise! Would love to hear your thoughts on this one. This chapter has me a nervous wreck. ~Kate_


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Thank you, Morgan, for being a great beta!_

* * *

"I think my water broke," I whisper, repeating the words. My heart is racing, my breath has quickened too, and I can't believe this right now. "Damon, my water broke!"

"Shh, it's okay," Damon nods, wiping his fingers on his jeans and jumping up from the couch. He runs a hand through his dark hair. "It's okay." He meets my gaze, finally. "It's a little sooner than I would've liked, but it's fine." He sees the panic I'm sure is written all over my face; he comes toward me again and kneels. He drapes his arms over my knees. "I don't want you to worry. Okay? It's normal for twins to come earlier than planned."

"It is?"

"Yes," he answers immediately, stressing the word. He's quick to make me feel better when he senses my anxiety. I'm shaking like a leaf – I'm not ready for this. "Elena, it's perfectly normal, alright?"

"I'm only thirty-five weeks, Damon. It's too soon…I can't be having the twins!"

"Baby, you need to calm down." His voice is soft and disarming and it has the effect he wants. I take a deep breath and see him relax a bit too. He grabs his cellphone and leaves the living room, pacing the hallway as he starts making phone calls: one to the hospital to let them know we're going to be there soon, and one to Stefan to let his brother know what the hell is going on in case he calls him and Damon doesn't answer the phone.

I pick up my own phone and dial my dad's number. After telling him the news, he tried his best to sound strong and emotionless, but it was painfully obvious that he was a blubbering mess on the other line. I wish he could be here for this but he's in Australia, working out some last minute business deal he couldn't afford to pass up. I gave him some trouble for it, but I didn't make it sound too admonishing; he'd be here if he could. I know he wouldn't want to miss this.

While we're both making calls telling everybody who needs to know what's going on, Damon sits by my side. Every now and then his hand will squeeze my thigh lovingly, giving me a glance and mouthing if I'm alright.

After hanging up his phone, Damon disappears into the bedroom. I stand up to follow him and I notice he's already got a giant, red duffle bag open and ready to be filled with necessities placed on the bed. Wow, he moves fast.

He shoves his phone into his back pocket and says, "We're all set. Called Stefan to let him know what's up and the hospital knows we're on our way. Normally we don't need to head in until the contractions are five minutes apart, but your water broke so we need to leave." He grabs a linen shirt and starts to button it up.

"How's Caroline?" I ask, but he shakes his head, turning away from me. He practically ignores me and goes back to packing. "Damon? How's Caroline?" He's going to answer me whether he likes it or not. "Hello!"

He whirls around and barks, "She's not feeling the greatest, Elena." I jump at the harshness in his tone, and he swallows, clearly caught up with what's happening right now. He lets out a deep breath and then his tone gentles. "I'm sorry." He shrugs, once again focusing on what he was doing. "Stefan didn't tell me much, but said that we would be in their thoughts tonight." He doesn't say anything more.

I hate what happened to Caroline. I do. I fucking hate it. For something so awful to happen to someone so sweet and undeserving… it's the definition of unfair. I understand that she can't be at the hospital and why she wouldn't want to be. I'm not sure if I could be there for her if the roles were reversed and I'd been through what she'd just been through either.

As I change into a clean pair of maternity pants, Damon is grabbing handfuls of clothes out of my drawers, but I can see he's being conscious of what exactly he's putting into the duffle: loose-fitting tops, yoga pants…clothing that won't be uncomfortable or painful to wear after the babies are born.

Wait a second…

…the babies are coming.

"Damon!" He freezes, his eyes darting to mine when his name comes from my lips in a high-pitched squeal.

"What?" he asks quickly, a panicked expression on his face. I think he thinks I'm having a contraction, but then it settles into a loving grin. Seeing that this isn't the case, he seems to understand exactly what I'm realizing. His eyes search mine before the grin widens, chuckling softly. "It's starting to sink in. Isn't it?" I nod eagerly and he walks up to me, cupping my face in his large hands, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.

"I thought we had time!" I exclaim. "I thought we had time to pick out names and decorate the nursery and…we're not ready. Damon, the babies don't even have a place to sleep!"

"Sometimes things don't always go as planned, but it looks like the rug rats are ready for their big debut." He bends down to press his lips to mine and then he says, "I'm going to finish packing and then we should get going."

"Don't you need a bag, too? I read somewhere that it's a good idea for the dad," I love the way his eyes light up when I use that word in relation to him, "to pack a few things too."

"I can toss whatever I need into yours. A few snacks, a change of clothes. I don't need my closet. However, you may need yours. You'll be there for a little while."

"Are the twins' car seats installed?"

"Yes."

"How can you be so cool and collected right now?" I ask; taken aback by the confidence and ease he's exuding. I'm in awe over it. Whatever mild panic he'd shown before is long gone by now; my rock is here. "I'm freaking out! How are you not?"

"The only reason – and it's a big one - is because I've done this countless numbers of times with hundreds of women, babe." He adds, holding his hands up to defend himself, "Let me correct myself. Hundreds of _patients_. You're the first lover I've done this with," he smirks, pulling me into his arms.

I grumble. "I better be your last."

"You, baby, are my only."

_Sweet-talker. _I roll my eyes as he nips at my ear and then Damon returns to packing my bag – even though I'm perfectly capable of doing so. I try to help but he keeps batting my hand away and telling me that I'll be doing enough work as it is. Giving up, I start folding whatever is left in my drawers in the meantime; he's gone through everything so chaotically that my clothes are going to wrinkle if I don't do something now.

"Okay, I think that's everything. How are you doing?" he asks, zipping up the bag and hoisting it onto his shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"One second," I breathe when I feel a sensation twist and yank at my middle. He's patient for my response. He knows exactly what's happening. The pain is a bit stronger, able to make me stop my movements and forget about folding elastic pants, while I grip the corner of my dresser. It hurts, but the pain is still manageable. Once the contraction fades, the reality only continues to set in. I'm terrified and I know that once I step foot out of my house, my life is officially going to change forever.

I'm excited and terrified and nervous and happy and...finally.

Finally, I'll be getting what I've wanted for years. My dream of having a family will be coming true today and I'll have the man I'm in love with to help me raise them. I give him a small smile, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm ready."

"Me too." The look in his eyes is enough to make that smile spread even further over my face at the double meaning. He takes my hand in his free one and says, "Let's go bring these babies into the world."

* * *

We pull up to the hospital and Damon is quick to open up my passenger door, holding out a hand for me to take. His arm is around my waist as we walk through the revolving doors, waving his arm for a nurse to bring me a wheelchair. I take my seat and he steers me to the maternity ward where I'm quickly admitted and situated in a private room. Damon makes a point to say I'm lucky. Apparently a lot of women are forced to share labor rooms.

"Bet you're glad you're happy to be dating a doctor, huh?"

"I've had that thought during quite a few instances," I wink, relaxing into the pillows as Ric steps into the room. "Hi, Ric."

"They chose to come earlier than scheduled, I see."

"Guess so. Everything is fine though, right?" I ask, glancing from Ric to Damon. They both answer in the affirmative simultaneously and Dr. Saltzman lets me know what exactly I may be in for.

His 'what to expect' layout for me was basically this in a nutshell: pain, pain, option to make that pain go away and then, depending on the positions of the twins and my blood pressure, I can choose to have a natural delivery or one via cesarean section.

Damon pulls up a chair next to my side and while Saltzman adjusts the fetal monitor to my belly, strapping it into place, he explains the different options for pain management. "There's everything from an epidural, which basically numbs you from the waist down, but makes it more difficult to push. And then there are analgesics that are administered through an IV, which help alleviate some of the pain but can cause nausea…" He continues to list off the advantages and disadvantages with each method of relief and the more I listen to him talk, the more I want him to shut up. I know he's doing his job, but…yeah. I like my preference better.

"What are you thinking?" Damon nudges my arm. "Which one sounds good?"

"I don't want anything," I reveal and his blue eyes bug out of his head. "I want to do this without any help from drugs. I want this all natural."

"Elena…"

"Damon," I mock, and he exhales a deep breath, shaking his head as if he thinks I've lost my damn mind. "I'm probably going to feel out of control in the next few hours, but doing this? This is something I _will_ _have_ control over."

He nods, agreeing easily enough but makes a point to say, "If you change your mind, you need to tell us."

"I will, but don't count on it."

I let my head fall against the pillow. We don't really talk about anything until another contraction hits. My breath catches in my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut tight against the pain. I bite my lip as it seems to drag on longer than the previous ones. Damon's hand slips into mine and his thumb rolls over my knuckles.

"Squeeze if you need to."

I can't answer him right away, but when the pain disappears I groan. "They're starting to hurt. They were annoying before…now they're actually starting to hurt."

Damon gives me a sympathetic smile and kisses the palm of my hand. "You could always…"

"No." I know he wants me to consider drugs, not wanting me in any pain, but I don't want them. I don't want the babies to be all glazy-eyed and lethargic when they're born. "Not happening."

When Ric enters the room again he's rolling in an ultrasound machine, telling us he's going to check the babies' positions so that we can figure out what sort of delivery is going to take place. As soon as he figures out baby A's position, Ric explains that he's vertex, meaning his head is down towards my cervix, which is good. We want a vertex position. The last appointment we had they were both vertex and I can only hope they've stayed put. He looks at baby B, and gives us a thumb up. "Your kids think that as long as everything goes smoothly, they see no reason why you can't have them naturally."

I take the paper towel Ric hands me and wipe off the goo, wincing at the tenderness in my middle. He sits at the end of my bed and rolls his chair forward, telling me to spread my legs so that he can examine me and see how far along I am. I wince at the odd sensation of his probing fingers, but when he pulls back he's wearing an expression that doesn't exactly leave me hopeful.

"What?"'

"You're only two centimeters dilated." He peels off his gloves and stands up. "We _could_ give you Pitocin to speed things up." I shake my head and he sighs. "I heard you say you didn't want drugs, though."

"No. No drugs if I can help it," I explain. "Is there anything else I can do to move things along?"

"Yep," Damon nods, pulling the sheets off of me and holding his hands out to help me out of bed. "We're going for a walk."

* * *

The tile is cold under my bare feet, but I'm fine with it. It feels good; a nice contrast from the fire I feel in my torso with every contraction. Damon is holding my IV stand and wheeling it with us, his free hand ghosting the small of my back as we make our way through the hallways. We talk about everything from what color the babies' nursery will be, though Damon's pretty dead set on it being a neutral color, saying a lot about how it should be grey or beige. Specifically grey. He seems to really like that color, says it'll help the twins calm down and promote serenity. I'm perfectly fine with that; I'll probably be sleeping the majority of the time when we go home.

Then, we start discussing possible names. Every few minutes – yes, the contractions are now four to five minutes apart – I'm freezing in my tracks, grabbing the railing along the walls while Damon coaches me through my breathing, rubbing his hand into a fist at the base of my spine to counteract the pressure that one of the babies is putting on it.

When I relax, I breathe, "What about Bridgette?"

"Hell no."

"Okay…why?"

"I dated a girl name Bridgette."

"Reason enough for me." I let out a shaky laugh as we continue to move. "Natalie?"

We continue sifting through names for Baby B. We settled on a boy name for Baby A already and are 99% sure that my dad will be pleased with his middle name.

I shoot down 'Bella' because no daughter of mine will be named after a woman who fell in love with a vampire and allowed herself to become so dependent on a man. Though, I have to admit that I _do_ like the idea of naming her with a 'B' name; 'B' names roll off the tongue easily. "What about Belle?" he asks. "Just like 'Bella,' it means 'beauty.' The thing is it's French, not Italian."

"That's better," I smile. "As long as she's not named after a whiny vampire, we're good. We're getting closer."

"Why not just name her Katherine?" a voice purrs and my smile immediately drops, quickly morphing into a grimace. Turning to face her, I see the bitch leaning against the doorway with a smug look on her face. I lift my head to Damon who looks like he's about to rip someone's head off – please, let it be hers. "Or you could just name her 'Kat' for short. It's cute. I mean, why not?"

"Damon?" I whisper. "What is she doing here?"

"I don't know," he answers, reluctantly taking his eyes away from me to glare at her. "She's not here for milk and cookies, that's for sure."

"Oh, I'm just here to give you two lovebirds what you want." She searches through her plum colored tote bag and pulls out a vanilla folder. "Signed, sealed," she hands it to him and smirks deviously. "Delivered."

He hesitantly reaches out to her, asking, "What's the catch?" before taking the folder from her grasp. I have another contraction and double over, too distracted by the pain to hear her response to his question.

"Damon," I moan, clutching at his shirt as his arms come around me.

"You're okay, just breathe."

"Ouch, that looks painful."_ Why is this wench still here?! _ I barely see the bitch cross her arms through my peripherals as I battle through this contraction. "On second thought…you know, I'm glad we never had kids, Damon. I have a rather low tolerance for pain."

"Not helping." Damon takes my hands and wraps my arms around his neck so that I can use him for support. "You can go now, Katherine," he growls before whispering his love for me into my ear when I whimper, pressing my forehead against his chest. God, this labor thing _hurts_.

"Oh, on the contrary," she sneers. "I thought I'd stick around. You know, hang out, give you two my best wishes." I'm guessing Damon gave her a look – I can't see it, I'm too busy focusing on not dying – because then she's asking, "What? You two really think I was oblivious to your affair?" She scoffs and I can imagine her rolling her eyes, shaking her head. "I'm not an idiot."

"What do you want?" I pant, groaning quietly as the contraction intensifies before fading away. I lift my head and pull away slightly, but Damon's arms don't leave my waist. They're locked around my back, keeping me somewhat close to him, showing her that he's not leaving my side, regardless of what bullshit she may try to pull.

"I'm giving you what _you_ want, honey. You get Damon, and guess what? I'm cool with it." She lightly taps Damon's shoulder before shifting her weight onto her other hip. "You two make a cute couple. Oh, and by the way, I heard about the mishap you had with your patient. Shame, isn't it? How does it feel to not lose one patient in your career, but two?"

Damon remains silent – if only looks could kill – but I don't. "Get the hell out of here, bitch."

"Whoa!" she laughs, holding her hands up playfully. "Didn't mean to annoy you, Mommy. Just wanted to let you know that I knew you two were a lot more than just doctor-patient for a few months."

"How?" Damon asks angrily. Everyone at this hospital loves him, they wouldn't betray him like that; I know they wouldn't.

"Your friend Rose and her buddy Trevor were overheard in the break room talking about Elena's happy news, you know…forgiving you for your little secret." She flashes the wedding band still around her finger, wiggling it, mocking me. _I. Hate. Her. _"I came to surprise you with lunch but…lucky me. Looks like I got a little surprise of my own that day." Her eyes glint when she says, "Speaking of little surprises…twins? Damn. Double trouble. My heart goes out to you."

I go to say something, but she waves her hand at me. "Oh for Christ's sake, Elena. Give it a rest."

I could rip her face off.

"I told you already; he's all yours. Damon, however," she focuses her attention on him, giving him a cold glare. "I hope you enjoyed your last day of work. You won't be going back."

"You don't have control over me anymore, Kat. I'm done! I'm telling the Chief what really happened that day. It wasn't my fault; I did what you told me to do. You can't punish me for following orders."

"I'm going to ruin you. You have no idea what hell I can put you through."

"Oh, will you just let it go?" Her lips curl with his words as he continues. His blue eyes are blazing furiously while he hisses, "You messed up, you tried to take me down with you, and when I stopped fucking your brains out, you decide to open this can of worms and make things a hell of a lot worse than they are. You're a selfish _bitch_, Katherine." His grip on me tightens as he sneers, "You keep that up and you're going to end up alone."

The color from her face drains and she eventually, thankfully, disappears around the corner. I almost feel sorry for her.

Almost.

"I'd like to think that's the last of her, but who knows. Katherine's a bit of a loose cannon. You okay?" he asks, stroking my face, as I let out a slow exhale; it's another contraction and it causes my eyes to clamp shut, but I nod.

"I'm fine…I just…I think we need to head back."

* * *

A little over two hours pass and I'm feeling irritable. What Damon is doing is making me irritable. "Damon?" I ask, seeing him pop some pecans into his mouth. He's been snacking on those things he brought with us to the hospital for the last five minutes and while I agree that he needs to eat, he doesn't need to eat in front of me. I'm hungry too, starving actually and I can't even eat anything!

"Yeah, babe."

"Do me a favor, okay?"

"What's that?" he asks, swallowing and tossing another couple nuts into his mouth.

_Deep breath, Elena. Deep breath. _"Can you grab me some ice chips?"

Yelling doesn't solve anything, but I can't promise I won't be doing it later on.

* * *

Four hours later, the pain's worse than anything I've ever felt in my entire life. I take it back. I take it all back. I want drugs. I need them. The babies will be a little loopy for a few hours, sure, but if mama ain't happy ain't nobody happy. And right now, I am _far _from having a smile on my face. "Drugs," I whine while my hands grip my belly. "Damon, I need drugs."

"Changing your mind, huh," he states, as if he knew I would switch plans. He wipes my tears from my eyes. "You said you didn't want them."

"I know what I said," I snap angrily. "I lied!"

"How are we doing in here?" Ric smiles, holding his chart in his hands as he opens the door and walks through it.

"I think things are finally moving along, Ricky." Damon laughs both at my irritation and Ric's glare – apparently he doesn't like that nickname. The doctor sits at the foot of my bed, rolls up my bed sheets and examines me.

"You're not kidding."

"Am I ready yet?" I ask hopefully. I just want these kids out of me. I want them out of me and I want to sleep. Ric shakes his head and what? No, no, no! That's not the answer I was looking for! "What?" I ask, my voice hitching as I flop backwards and Damon kisses my forehead.

"Not quite yet."

"What do you mean not yet?" Ric jots something down on his clipboard and explains that I can't have the babies yet because I'm at eight centimeters and tells me that while I'm nearly there, I have to hang on just a little bit longer.

I don't know how I'm supposed to do that though…I'm already hanging on by a thread.

I'm not supposed to push because I can't risk tearing, and they say that I'll have to like…pant through the contractions if I feel the urge to.

_Like I'm a fucking dog or something. Fucking awesome. _

"Can I at least have something for the pain? An epidural, Ric? Something?" _Anything?! _"Please."

"I'll give you an epidural…"

I love this man.

"But it won't do anything for the pain."

I hate him. What the fuck is he talking about? If he doesn't give me an answer right this second I will…yes. I'm going to kill him. In his sleep; he'll never know. "What do you mean?" I ask carefully. Speaking of 'carefully,' he better chose his answer 'carefully'. Very carefully.

"The epidural will be given, just in case a cesarean proves necessary where you'll already be set for a numbing agent…but it may not take affect for a while. The babies could be born before you feel any relief."

"What? That sucks!" I screech, way past caring who may hear outside. I'm in pain and he's going to die. "I need drugs!"

"Like I said, the epidural takes a while to kick in. You'll probably be pushing in the next fifteen minutes."

I stare at him before that realization smacks me in the face and I burst into tears. Everything hits me full force. Holy shit. These babies are coming and it really will be all natural. I'm doing this the way I thought I wanted and…fuck.

"Shhh," Damon chuckles softly. "You're okay."

"No, I'm not!" I cry, agony and pain and misery surging through me. "I'm not okay! Don't laugh at me, dammit! I'm in pain and I just want you to be supportive of me instead of patronizing me!" I'm bawling now and Damon crawls into bed with me, moving behind me so that he can literally support me; his arms curl around me, pulling me closer to him. "I want drugs," I sniffle, wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

Damon's hands move over my belly, stroking it and helping me to relax as best I can. I read most laboring women hate to be touched, but being in his arms feels damn near close to perfection. "Damon," I sigh, though it sounds more like a whimper. I let my head fall against his chest.

"I've got you, Elena." During this brief break – I relish each moment of respite – I try my best to dissociate myself from the pain and this situation, and allow my thoughts to take me somewhere calmer, somewhere peaceful.

My parents used to bring me to Dunham Lake when I was little. It's the place our cabin was located and every summer we'd spend three weeks just tubing, catching fireflies and roasting marshmallows over a bonfire, enjoying the warm air until we were forced out of our bubble and back into reality.

I can hear the waves, caused by Dad's reckless steering, washing up onto the shore and carrying away my pain, drowning it and leaving me blissfully numb…until I lunge upwards when that agony snaps back full force, furious and intent on having its way with me as it tries to morph my insides into a pretzel. "Oh my god!" I cry out. "This hurts so bad!"

"I know it does, but you're doing great." His voice murmurs soothing reassurances into my ear, but I'm having trouble believing what he's saying. I hate Eve so much; the slut just had to go and let herself be tempted by that fucking apple. The flood gates open again. More tears stream like a flowing river down my face as the pain in my abdomen only intensifies. He holds me tighter, pulling my hair off my neck and places a kiss there.

"I hate you!"

"You don't mean that," he snorts, rolling his eyes. "You love me."

"I don't!"

"Oh, yeah? Why's that? What did I do?" Damon's brows shoot up and he tries to fight back a grin. He knows I'm more likely to smack him than to just let him give me lip. "I've been nothing but supportive."

"You could be the reason I'm in agony right now," I grunt, huffing my hair away from eyes. "This could very well be all your fault."

"Then I'll gladly take the blame," he chuckles. "I love you, babe." He places a firm kiss on my damp forehead.

"I'm sweaty," I croak breathlessly. "I'm sweaty and I'm gross… I'm sorry."

"I told you you'd be working hard tonight, didn't I?" I feel vibrations rumbling from his chest. He just continues to laugh at me - he's lucky I love him. He kisses me precisely on the same spot and says, "Don't be sorry."

The anesthesiologist comes with his kit and sets up. As he administers the needle into my spine, I curl into Damon's chest and feel a stinging sensation. After he's done he leaves and I'm back on my back.

"Alright," Ric says suddenly, looking up from his beeper after checking the fetal monitor. His eyes flit to the graph that's keeping track of my contractions. "I'm getting paged right now so in the meantime you may want to let her know what's going on, Damon." He tells me he'll be back in a few minutes and then walks out of the room.

Damon leans over to read the machine– I can't see the damn thing so I'm in the dark as far as when the contractions come and go or how long they're going to last. I feel them when I feel them and try my best to get through them.

"I think you're perfectly aware of what's going on," Damon smirks. "You don't need me to tell you that. I will, however, tell you when the strongest point is and how much longer you've got to go."

"Whatever," I grunt. As soon as I snap at him, I feel a very familiar tightening and as Damon's eyes fall to the needle that is scribbling manically on the graph, my low moan grows louder. "Oh, God..."

"Hang on," he says, shifting his position to pull me tighter against him. "You're peaking."

"I think it's obvious!" I bite out, nearly growling as I try to get through this damn contraction. I crush his fingers and my own hand stings. They keep getting worse, and this one seems to be dragging on longer than normal. "Da-" I gasp.

"It's almost over. Breathe, Elena."

"I am breathing!" I hiss, feeling a cool washcloth swipe across my forehead. "I'm never doing this again. I will never do this again!"

"There you go. That's the worst of it." I relax into Damon's chest as the pain diminishes. "Nicely done, babe."

"There was barely…a break in between those two," I pant raggedly, exhausted. If it wasn't obvious I was in labor you'd think I'd run the fifty yard dash. He strokes my hair away from my brow, allowing some of the cool air to get to it. "How far apart were they?"

He looks over at the sheet and tells me, "Ninety seconds."

"Kill me now, please" I beg, and Damon's lips meet my temple. "God, I want to die."

"Don't you think like that. You know you don't mean it."

"Right now? Oh, yes I do!"

When Ric returns, he grabs his stool and scoots it once again to the bottom of my bed. He lifts the sheet, clearing his throat while he checks my dilation.

"Well, I've got good news," he explains looking up at us. "It's time to move into the delivery room."

"What?" That news perks me right up. "Really? You're kidding."

"You're fully dilated." Well, it's about damn time. Ric backs away and unclicks the safety locks on the bed's wheels.

Damon climbs out of bed, lacing his fingers through mine as I'm wheeled out of the labor room and holy shit this is happening right now. "You ready to do this thing?" he asks, stroking my hair as we continue to move through the halls.

"I'm scared."

He licks his lips, locking his eyes with mine and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, as he promises me, "I'll be there with you."

When we enter the new, scarily pristine, sterile room, a nurse comes in and introduces herself. Just as I learn her name, Sage, Damon disappears. She seems nice enough and tells me, "On the next contraction we're going to have you start pushing, Elena."

"Wait, what?"

"You can push with a lower risk of tearing now. Your cervix is at ten."

"Where's Damon?"

"He'll be back." Ric gives Sage something that looks a shower cap to cover my hair and I'm shaking my head frantically as she slips it on for me. There is no way in hell am I doing this without him. "Elena, he's just changing into scrubs; he'll be here soon."

Another contraction tears through me and I cry out. This one is vastly different from the others; I feel an immense urge to push, but when Ric tells me to bear down, I can't…well, won't. "Not without Damon," I grit out through my teeth, gasping through the pain until it disappears. I will cross my legs and fight with everything in me because I am fucking not doing this without him, I refuse.

"You don't have a choice. Those babies aren't going to wait for him."

I'm about to tell him to shut the hell up, that I will hold back and make them wait for as long as needed – until like a prayer – I see cobalt eyes lock with mine as Damon comes into view, blue scrubs and all, rushing to be my side.

"Damon!"

"I'm right here," he grins, taking my face in his hands, running his thumb over my bottom lip and kissing me soundly. Thank god.

"How are we going to do this?" Ric asks, looking at me and then swinging his attention to Damon. "We don't have a lot of time. So, what'll it be, kids?"

"Both of them are vertex," Damon says, running a hand through his hair. "It's safer and…"

They continue to talk as if I'm not in the room. Why are they talking about me like I'm not here? I'll make them remember that I am. "Natural!" I shout angrily. "I told you before and I still mean it. I want natural!"

"Sitting up or laying down?"

"They're coming out either way!" I yell. "Why does it matter?!" I feel another contraction rip twist and yank across my abdomen. I cry out as my hand shoots outward to grab Damon's; it squeezes it back.

"Push if you feel the urge, Elena," Ric orders. "And only for as long as you feel it."

Since I've been feeling "the urge" since the moment they said I was ready to go, I heed his advice and bear down….and then quickly back off. I feel like I'm going to be split in two. How do women do this? "Holy shit!"

Damon's fingers curl around my hand and mine squeeze the life out them. His free hand wraps around my back and I try to push again. "Come on, Elena," Damon cheers softly, stroking my back and gripping my hand as I fight through this thing.

When I fall back into the bed, Damon pushes my damp hair away from my forehead and kisses me there. "Okay, now you can either lay here or we can drop the foot of the bed and install the stirrups." I can barely hear what he's saying. I can only comprehend that his voice is the most calming thing in this room, so I choose to focus on it.

"Hmm?" I mumble, so that I can actually understand what he's saying.

"You can sit up or stay on your back, though this will move quicker if you're upright. It'll let gravity do some of the work for you." I give him the okay to remove the end of the bed. Ric hurriedly attaches the stirrups that my feet are going to be resting in.

Another contraction hits, like clockwork, and everything progresses quite rapidly after finding my new position. As much as it hurts – the epidural is taking only an eighth of the pain away – it feels good to push. I feel like I've gained back some of the control I lost throughout most of this labor. Thirty minutes later, Ric's announcing, "I can see the head. One more and you'll be meeting the first baby, Elena." I continue on until Ric says, "The head is out, you can take a breather through this next one. Stop pushing."

No…no, what? "Why?" I ask breathlessly. If I stop now I'm not sure I'll be able to start again.

"Just breathe. Pant if you have to, but do not push." He begins clearing out the nasal and oral passages while I use this brief time to rest. "Okay give another one, but gently."

I try, but my body is jelly. "Nope, I'm done," I mutter tiredly. "You do it."

"I can help you, yes, but I can't exactly pull it out."

"That's a great idea," I plead desperately. "Pull it out of me, just tug and it'll be here! I'll do the work for the next one. It'll be like teamwork and teamwork is important!"

"She's exhausted, Ric." Damon's amused voice explains and I glare at him. "She's saying anything and everything right now. Elena," he whispers into my ear. "You can do this. You've come this far, just one more push."

"No," I whimper. I can't do it. I've endured enough torture to last me the rest of my life for the last however many hours, but now I'm at the end of my rope. I'm tired, in pain, and I tell him. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"You can." His hand continues to stroke my hair, his fingers massaging effortlessly, erasing the tension that's radiating in my neck.

"Nope. I can't."

"You've wanted this for years. You've wanted a family and now you have two people who desperately want to meet their mother." Tears slip from my eyes as he says those final words and I find new strength just as yet another contraction shows signs of appearing. I inhale deeply and push with everything I have, a guttural scream ripping through me as Ric helps me deliver the shoulders.

"Good girl, Elena, keep going!" Damon cheers. My pelvis feels like it's going to shatter until the pain is gone and the only sound heard is my ragged breathing. "Elena," he breathes shakily.

"Congratulations," the doctor says with a smile, wiping off the baby before laying it on my chest. "Say hello to your daughter." My daughter? Baby B…I curl my arms around her and when she doesn't cry, I give Saltzman a worried look.

"She's not crying. Shouldn't she be crying, Ric? Why isn't she crying?"

"She's breathing, Elena. She's pink and she's quite lively," Ric chuckles, seeing her little arms flail and her tiny fingers curling around my index finger. "Enjoy this quick minute with her and then we'll give her a more thorough examination." I remember reading something about preemies needing more care than full-term babies. "The lungs are nearly developed, but we'll need to incubate her to warm her up."

"God, Damon, look at her." I sniffle back tears and lean down to kiss the soft skin on the top of her head. "She's beautiful."

"Elena, she's perfect." Damon kisses my hair. His voice is strained as he manages, "You did it."

"Hi, baby," I weep. I can't believe she's here. She's healthy and she's here. "I'm your mommy."

When Ric takes her to further examine her, I fully intend to use the lull as a chance to regain my strength. I've got anywhere from five minutes to half an hour before the contractions start again, but after the first delivery, I have no doubt I can bring my son into the world.

"I am so proud of you," Damon murmurs, his voice heavy with emotion. His warm, glistening blue orbs flit to me before locking back to the bundle in my arms. He's stroking the baby's cheek with a tenderness that melts my heart. "We still need to think of a name for her."

"Bea," I smile. Looking up at him I say, "Her name is Bea." The name is perfect. Short, sweet, we won't need to worry about other kids having her name. It has a beautiful pronunciation and an even more beautiful meaning. She's my little miracle; she's blessed.

Damon's brows furrow as he thinks it over, but his eyes are shining with happiness and a grin pulls at his cheeks. Damon leans forward and kisses her nose, whispering, "Welcome to the world, Bea." He chuckles when her lashes flutter, looking completely enamored with her.

"Look at those blue eyes," I murmur and Damon sighs heavily, causing me to tear my own eyes away to meet his. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Damon…"

"Nothing's wrong," he tells me with a shrug. "Chances are they'll fade to another color, Elena. Every newborn's eyes are blue before they settle." I continue to look up at him, guiltily, knowing that he's probably – definitely – praying for them to _stay_ that mesmerizing shade of cerulean…for obvious reasons. We spend the next ten minutes obsessing over this little being when I feel a strong twinge.

"Damon," I whimper. "Take her."

"What?" he asks before it apparently clicks; his eyes widen and he nods quickly, his arms automatically taking the baby from my grasp; when I feel her weight lift from my chest my eyes snap open to find Damon handing her off to Sage. My heart yearns for her to be back in my arms but I know she'll be in them again soon enough. The nurse carries her away while Damon comes to my side again. "This is going to move a lot faster. It'll be more intense, baby, but just breathe through it."

"Like I have much of a choice," I deadpan as Ric returns.

He takes his place at the foot of my bed, yet again, taking one glance at the fetal monitor and tells me, "Here we go, Elena; you know the drill." I nod, hooking my arms under my legs and wait as another contraction strikes. Ten minutes pass and the head crowns. Damon wasn't kidding; this time is taking nowhere near as long it had with Bea, but that doesn't mean the pain is any less severe. Still hurts like a bitch. "One more push and you're done."

* * *

"Elena." Damon's voice is soft as velvet, pulling me out of my sleep. My heavy eyelids flutter open as he whispers, "Baby, wake up." The first thing I feel is his lips pressing gently against mine, lingering there for a little while before pulling away. l see his smile. I love his smile. "Good morning."

"Morning," I mumble against his lips when he barely lets me get the word out. My hands run over my belly and panic overcomes me as I realize it's not as big as it was. I yank my mouth away from his, pushing him away. "Where are they?" I ask worriedly, my voice nearly a shout.

"They're fine," he soothes, his fingertips dancing along my cheekbone. His touch instantly eases my distress and I relax into the pillows. "They're in the NICU."

"Is everything okay?"

"They are. Preemies go to the NICU, Elena. They're having a little bit of trouble keeping warm, but overall they're healthy."

"What about Bea?"

"Elena." He chuckles, his hand sliding into mine. "Bea. Is. Fine." He kisses my lips. "Noah. Is. Fine." He kisses my lips again. "They. Are. Both_. Fine_," he stresses; his eyes flash as if trying to compel me to finally believe him.

"I'll believe you when I can see them for myself."

"You're not going anywhere just yet. You need to rest."

"Why?"

"Because, less than six hours ago, you gave birth to twins. That's why."

"That's a stupid reason to not let me see them."

"I'm not _not_ letting you see them, Elena. I'm just not letting you out of bed to see them," he flashes his infuriating smirk. "I'll go grab one of the nurses and see if their temperatures are stabilized. Maybe I can bring them in here."

"Please." I love this man.

* * *

"Surprise," Damon quietly cheers. "You have two people who would like to say hello to you."

He comes back rolling one of the basinets as another nurse does the same with the second. I push myself up and my arms reach out to grab them. "Give me my babies," I squeal.

The nurse carries the first newborn over to me and he's swaddled in a blue blanket. Noah. His eyes are as big as saucers, curiously examining his surroundings, before settling onto my face. He wrinkles his nose, letting out an adorable yawn. "They've already been fed, but we'll get you set up to feed them yourself in a couple of hours."

"That's fine; just give them to me," I say again, itching to have them in my arms.

Damon laughs and the love in his eyes is breathtaking as he lifts the pink bundle into his arms. "Hi, sweetheart." Holy shit, my heart just jumped. It settles back in place with all of its strings in knots. The sight of him with a child is one I'm glad I'll get to see more of, but I'm ready for both of the twins to be in my arms now.

"Give her to me!" I beam, reaching my free arm as far as it can stretch. "I want her!"

"Well, I'd hope so," he quips, and even though I glare at him, he doesn't look too fazed.

"Damon, give me my daughter!" I giggle.

"You are a greedy little thing." He brings Bea over to me and gently slips her into the curve of my arm. "Support their heads, babe." I nod eagerly, holding back the snippy remark of 'I know how to hold my own babies' and cradle them, admiring them and admittedly my heart swells with pride. I did it. I brought them into the world and my eyes well with tears at the thought that my dream is now a reality. I gingerly lift my legs so that I can lay the twins across them. I want to have a good look at them.

They're beautiful. Damon's right, they're absolutely perfect. I swallow thickly, looking up at him and he's beaming down at me. "What?" I whisper, not wanting to startle the babies.

He sits on the edge of my bed and cradles the side of my face in his hand, his fingers gliding up and down my thigh. "How happy are you right now?"

"Is that really a question?" I giggle. "I don't think I could measure it." I stare down at Bea and Noah and they're so tiny and innocent and cute and, "I want more."

"What?"

"I want more…lots more…at least one more." Damon rolls his eyes. "_What?_" I mimic playfully and he smirks.

"You know…" he drawls, putting a dramatic index finger to his chin. "I could have _sworn _you said you would never do this again. I know I couldn't have been imagining it."

Scoffing, I gesture to the babies in my lap right now. "Well, I've changed my mind." Smiling, I add, "Look at them, Damon. I can't not do this again."

"Well, we have time to talk about it," he says, kissing my cheek. "Let's just focus on Bea and Noah. We can deal with future siblings – created the old fashioned way, might I add – a little later." Damon gets up and grabs the chair against the wall, pulling it to the edge of the bed. Sitting down, he props his elbows up on the mattress and fiddles with Noah's blanket. "I still can't believe you did that, Elena. You're my hero."

"Why?" I ask, feeling blood rush to my cheeks. "You're constantly delivering babies. It isn't anything you haven't dealt with before."

"This time was different," he presses. "Because it wasn't just another patient. It was you. Elena, I was losing my mind."

"But…"

"I was doing the best acting I've ever done in my life, but I was freaking out on the inside." I knew that was panic I saw when my water broke. "Watching you go through what you went through," he says roughly. "That was nothing short of amazing. You are amazing."

I'm choked up; I can't even respond to his flattering comments or return his penetrating gaze. I look away from him and focus on the wriggling forms in my lap. "When do you think they can go home?" I finally ask.

"I'd say a couple weeks, three at the most. No longer than a month. They're tiny, but overall pretty healthy."

"Good," I smile as he gets up from his chair and leans forward to press his forehead to mine, placing a gentle kiss upon my lips. "Sure you're still in this with me?" I ask playfully. "This isn't going to be easy, you know. Raising two infants includes sleepless nights, constantly giving them your undivided attention…now's your time to back –"

"I'm not backing out on anything." He meshes his lips with mine. "Nice try though. I love you."

"I love you, too." The smile is in his eyes and I know I have nothing to worry about. We're doing this together.

* * *

After fifteen minutes of ogling over the twins, we hear a small knocking on the door and when I look over, expecting to see Ric, I find a blonde poking her head through the door. "Surprise," she smiles brightly, pushing it open further and walking through the doorway. Her eyes focus on the twins and her face lights up. "Elena! They're so teensy!"

"Shh," Damon admonishes lightly. "They've just fallen asleep."

I can't believe Caroline's here. "What are you doing here?" I ask quietly as she walks to the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes aren't filled with remorse as I expected them to be when seeing her again. "You should be at home resting."

"You're my best friend, Elena. I wanted to come as soon as _someone,_" she stressed, giving Damon a lighthearted glare, "told me the good news. Unfortunately, he waited until after they were born to call me."

"You didn't call Caroline?"

"Well, neither did you."

"Yeah, because I thought when you were on the phone with Stefan you'd tell him to tell her!"

"I did, but that was Stefan's call to make. Not mine. I called her this morning, before you woke up."

"Okay, okay," Caroline quickly jumps in, waving her hands frantically to stop us from bickering. "It's done. It's fine, I'm just…glad to be here now." She enthusiastically asks me what their names are, playing with their small fingers.

"Bea and Noah."

"I like them. Different name for a girl, but it's pretty. I approve," she winks as the nurse walks in.

"The babies need to be brought back to the NICU, guys. We need to do one or two more tests."

"Is everything alright?" I ask, my heart stopping until she nods.

"Everything's just fine," she says as she carefully pries Noah out of my arms and places him in the basinet. She goes to take Bea and Damon holds up a hand. "Doctor Salvatore…"

"I've got her, Amber. Thank you." He gestures for me to hand her over, which I do, grateful that he is the one to take her from me. Either he's not comfortable enough with letting anybody else handle Bea, or he is, and he's just placating me – putting my mind at ease. He places my little girl into her own basinet. "I'll be right back," he tells me, following the nurse out the door with the two most precious things in my life.

"Wow," Caroline breathes as soon as they're gone. "Talk about protective."

"Hmm?"

"He wouldn't let that girl lay a finger on Bea. Daddy Damon is in full force and it's only been…six hours," she explains, glancing down at her watch. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've just shoved two watermelons out of the size of a lemon," I quip. "So I'm doing pretty great."

She giggles a bit before her smile slips. "Elena, I'm sorry for not being here. I really wanted to be."

"Don't start with that," I say, reaching for her hand. "Don't be sorry, Care; I totally understand. Besides, Damon was great. He never left my side." What we went through ended up being a more intimate experience than I'd expected. I'm grateful things worked out the way they did. She nods, happy that Damon was with me but her eyes are shining with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Caroline."

"It's okay…they said there wasn't really a reason for it; it just happened. I know that it wasn't meant to be. Stefan's been very supportive of everything…he wasn't even mad. In fact I think it was more upsetting for him."

"He was pretty upset when we were with him," I admit, squeezing her hand. "I think he was more worried about you though. We all were."

"And I love you all for it," she sniffles. "I do. But today's not about me. It's about you and your new family!" she beams, wrapping her arms around me and I return her embrace. "Can you believe it?"

"I really can't," I laugh. "This is all so surreal. Damon and the twins…it's more than I could have ever dreamed."

"He's a good man, Elena. I know he screwed up with the whole Katherine thing..." she trails off when I interrupt her.

"Speaking of, she showed up while I was in labor."

"You're kidding," she gasps. "What happened?" she gasps again. "What did Damon do? _Oh_…what did Damon do?" she asks again, her eyes wide and her tone suddenly serious.

"He let her have it. I think she got a taste of her own medicine and we won't be seeing her again anytime soon."

"I have no problem with that," a velvety voice says as Damon walks into the room. "We can enjoy the rest of our stay in peace."

"And on that note," Caroline grins. "I'll leave you to rest, sweetie." She bends down, kissing me on the forehead. "Congratulations!" she squeals, running around the bed to snake her arms around Damon's neck; she hugs him tight and he returns the gesture, chuckling when she gives one last bubbly wave and disappears from the room.

"I don't know how she does it," he laughs. "That girl is non-stop."

"What do you mean?"

"Caroline is the Energizer Bunny in human form."

"Basically," I smile and he gives me a gentle peck on the lips, taking his seat by my side. "Everything's okay. She seemed sad, but she's happy for us."

"I was worried about that…walking into a sobfest," he quips. "I'm glad that wasn't the case. She okay?" I nod, smiling again when Damon lifts my hand and presses his lips to it.

"Yes. She will be."

"And you?"

"I am ecstatic. I feel like I'm in a bubble that nobody could burst."

"Well, that's good. I love bubbles," he smirks, nibbling against my ear. His fingers ghost down my sides while he whispers, "I can't wait until you're able to have sex again. Bubble bath…candles..."

"Damon," I blush. "You're teasing me. I have to wait six weeks." I giggle when he tickles me. "Be nice."

"I prefer being naughty." His lips graze over mine, pressing a sensual kiss to them. When his tongue slips into my mouth, I gently push him away and his forehead tilts to rest against mine. Breathlessly, he whispers, "This is going to be the longest six weeks of my life."

* * *

_AN: Going a little bit bonkers over here. Please share your thoughts with me by leaving a review! ~Kate_


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: Thank you all for your wonderful comments and to those I can't reply because you signed in as 'Guests' – thank you, to you too! All of your words mean so much. __Welp, this chapter kicked my ass. For whatever reason, I had to fight for every word you're about to read. I hope it doesn't disappoint. I didn't want to give you however many words of crap. I totally struggled with this! The story's not over just yet; I think we have maybe 3 chapters until the end - give or take a chapter. Oh and please __don't hate me. ~Kate_

_Mini-note: Morgan, hon, you are awesome. THANK YOU! _

* * *

_Three Weeks Later…_

A loud cry brings me out of my sleep and I groan as I roll onto my stomach. I am absolutely exhausted. After coming home from the hospital a week ago, the twins have really been putting my mothering skills to the test. When one baby is crying, the other is demanding attention. If Bea is happy, Noah does something that causes her to cry, and vice versa. I can't seem to have two happy babies at one time and it's really starting to take its toll on me.

Plus, last night didn't help any.

"Okay, okay. I'm up, I'm up," I whisper, ripping the covers off of me like a Band-Aid. The sooner I see what's wrong, the sooner I can bury my face into my pillow again and dive back into my dream.

I feel a strong hand gently pushing me back down into the mattress. "It's fine, Elena; I've got 'em. Go back to sleep."

He's whipping out the supportive power play now to make up for last night. I want to fight him on it, want to tell him that single act won't smooth everything over, but frankly I'm exhausted. If he wants to tackle their cries and try to soothe them, then he can. It's just not going to earn him any extra points where I'm concerned.

For the most part, he's been nothing short of wonderful when it comes to the twins. We've taken turns tending to the infants, allotting the other to rest as much as possible, which keeps us from ending up in an insane asylum because I swear that's where I feel we're headed – and it's only been seven days without nurses to jump in, intervene and make everything better.

Okay, so…it hasn't been all that terrible, regardless of how I feel about Damon right now – I'm too tired to think about our argument last night. Actually arguments are usually little tiffs or disputes…but for the first time, we had a _fight…_one so heated that it escalated on both sides and resulted in something pretty eye-opening.

It's a tiring job, and Damon and I aren't exactly in the greatest place right now, but at least I'm not alone. I feel the mattress lift as Damon gets out of bed; hear him stumbling tiredly towards the basinet that's on the other side of the room. I turn on my side to watch him when I hear him speak.

"Alright, cool your jets," Damon chuckles softly, letting out a loud yawn and picking one of the babies up as it continues to cry. It's no use. I can't sleep when one of them is so upset. I sit up and quietly watch as Damon gently presses the baby in the light purple outfit against his chest. Bea's the one causing all the uproar. When I pull the covers off to move over to them, he shakes his head.

"Don't even think about it," he warns lightly. He meets my gaze as he gently swings her back in forth, cradled securely in his arms. He gives me a tender, apologetic smile before returning his gaze to our little girl. They're ours. Regardless of the paternity, Bea and Noah's father will be Damon. After all, he will be their dad in every way that counts. "Go back to sleep," he tells me.

Damon disappears from the room with Bea still in his arms and I climb out of bed to check on my little man. Peering into his basinet, I see that he's still soundly asleep, for once unaffected by his sister's cries; thank God. He's out cold, looking so peaceful; it's amazing how much my heart has grown with these two little beings in my life. It's been less than three weeks and the twins already have us wrapped around their fingers. They've had us wrapped since they were born.

Minutes later, I feel Damon's lips press against my bare shoulder and his arms carefully come around me as he whispers, "You should be sleeping while they're sleeping; capitalize on every opportunity." I turn around in his embrace, noting that Bea is now swaddled in her bed, eyes fluttering open and closed as if trying her damnedest to fight off sleep. It's too overwhelming for her though and slumber easily carries her away. Damon is so unbelievably good with them. She'd be screaming the moment I set her down, but Damon is a natural. I simultaneously loathe and love him for that ability.

"How are you feeling?" I ask quietly, barely able to look at him. He hooks his finger under my chin and I no longer have a choice in the matter. "…How's the hangover?"

"I took some pain medication…still feel like I've been hit by a truck." His eyes scan over my face and he frowns. "I'm sorry about last night. I can't believe I acted that way. I shouldn't have."

"No," I say, pulling out of his grasp and walking out of the bedroom, knowing he'll want to press it and follow me. "You shouldn't have. You should have stayed to talk to me. Instead you got drunk." I hear his steps close behind me; I push open the door to the bathroom and shut it, not letting him in. I'm still pissed at him.

I slip my nightgown over my head and drop it to the floor, bend forward to turn on the faucet, and stick my fingers under the flow until it's warm. I pull the tab that makes the shower come alive, climb into the tub and step under the spray of the water, welcoming the relaxation as the hot water beats on my back, feeling my temper rise with it as the memories of last night remind me of why I was so angry with Damon.

* * *

_I stared at the paper in my hands. I'd probably read it at least twenty times over__,__ but each time I expected the damn thing to say something different._

"_Honey, I'm home!" Damon's laughter echoed down the hall and I heard his quick footsteps as he entered the kitchen. I held the letter in my trembling hands, unable to turn around to acknowledge him. "Well that was a long day at work. I told the Chief." That caught my reaction. I __briefly glanced__ over my shoulder__, but the sheet of paper in my hands still maintained most of my attention. _

_At my response, h__e nodded, flashing his electric blue eyes at me and smirking. I saw him lean against the doorway through my peripherals. "He was annoyed with the whole Katherine fiasco, but the good news is I'm not getting punished. Her ass is getting sued though. Apparently that mistake was one too many and that was the final straw. Lucky me, huh?" The next thing I knew he was kissing me on the back of my neck and snaking his arms around me, breathing into my ear, "But enough about that. How was your day?"_

_Impulsively, I flipped the paper over so he couldn't see.__ I tried to speak, tried to answer him but my throat closed up, squeezed tight to fight back tears. How was I going to explain this in a way that wouldn't break his heart? I wasn't sure if I could. _

"_Elena," he murmured worriedly. I shook my head and felt his hand rest themselves on my hips, gently pressing his fingers into my sides. "What's wrong?"_

_My heart was racing a mile a minute. My voice was pathetic and shaky and…shit. I needed to just shut up and tell him. "I have the results," I managed, willing my feet to work so that I can face him._

_His eyes widened as he stared at the back of the letter, unable to read what it said__,__ but apparently trying to regardless. He swallowed. "And?" I tried to make myself to talk again, but failed. "Elena…"_

_I wasn't able to tell him. I simply tilted the letter so that he could see for himself, and he took the piece of paper from my fingertips._

_My heart was seriously galloping by that point, threatening to beat right out of my chest__,__ and I wondered if he could hear it. I __forced__ myself __to__ look up, watching his blue orbs scan from left to right, and then again, repeating the motion. Left to right. Left to right. _

_His eyes started watering as they reached the bottom of the paper, and I was sure that he was reading the very line that made me the dysfunctional mess I was in that moment. My heart felt like it was going to be ripped out of my fucking chest._

_His tear-filled, oceanic gaze met mine as he hoarsely said, "Damn." He cleared his throat, but his voice wasn't any stronger. "Well, this sucks," he chuckled sadly, running his hand through his dark hair in frustration and tossing the letter onto the counter__,__ leaning against it. _

_He lowered his head, shaking it back and forth and his sad laughter turned into a bitter scoff. The look in his eyes broke my heart__. A__s I watched his jaw clench shut__,__ I wrapped my arms around him. "Well, that guy is a lucky bastard and he doesn't even know it…"_

"_You know I wanted them to be yours," I whispered, feeling tears slip down my face just as his thumbs stroked them away. "They're yours," I mumbled against his lips as his fingers trail down to cup my neck__.__ I tilted my head to press against his. I meant what I said months ago. "Damon, Bea and Noah are yours," I murmured, willing him to believe me after seeing the flash of doubt __pass through his __eyes. "This doesn't change anything, okay?"_

"_It changes everything," He muttered under his breath, pulling away from me and dropping his hands. "Where are they, anyway?"_

"_They're with Caroline and Stefan for the day. They wanted to spend some time with them. I was exhausted and you were at work and they'll be back to…wait, where are you going?" I asked as he nodded his head derisively and turned around, walking out of the room. "Damon?" He ignored me and panic started to bubble inside. __Holy shit, he was going to leave me. All because the twins weren't his. This was really about to happen.__ "Damon!"_

_He whirled around and threw his hands in the air. "Out," he snapped, __feeding the insecurities already eating away at me__. He saw me flinch with the harshness of his voice and his gaze softened a bit. "I just need to get out for a little __while__." He walked up to me and caressed the side of my face__, easing away some of my previous doubts__. "I'll come back, I promise." __His expression was shadowed in utter despair__ and my heart squeezed tighter and tighter the longer I stared at him. He was breaking over this, taking it much harder than I could have ever feared._

"_I'll go with you," I sa__id__, following him when he turned around again to move to the front door. I wasn't really dressed to go anywhere but__ my__ bed, but I was terrified that he was going to do something stupid if he walked out that door. __The last thing he needed was time alone in his head.__ His hand rested on the knob and he twisted it, just as I told him, "I don't want you to be alone."_

"_And I don't want to talk about this. __I need some time to myself.__ Don't wait up."_

"_Just stay here," I begged, desperation leaking through my voice. I didn't bother to even hide it. "Talk to me!" I saw his head turn slightly, but he didn't respond, didn't stay and chose to walk out the door._

* * *

_He was gone for six hours. Six. Hours. _

_I'd just fed the twins, having calmed them down and put them to bed half an hour before when Damon stumbled through the front door a little after two in the morning. "Elena!" he sang and I was up out of bed and in the foyer in less than a minute. "Honey," he drawled, quite loudly, repeating his greeting from earlier that night, waving at me when he caught my eye. "I'm home!"_

"_Would you be quiet!" I hissed as he nearly tripped over himself on his way to get to me. "You're going to wake the babies!"_

"Your_ babies, you mean," he corrected with a frown, his voice slurring the words; he missed the way I recoiled at the way he said __it__. Damon leaned against the door, so obviously piss drunk. And obviously upset. Shit, this wasn't good. "Your flesh and your blood. I'm just…I'm just gonna be the guy who they yell isn't their father when they're...when they're teenagers," he hiccupped, waggling his finger at me._

_Well, that was fucking great. He wasn't just piss drunk. He was obliterated. "Damon, you've been drinking…is that where you went? Some bar?"_

"_Mhmm," he smirked lazily, giving me a nod and a shrug. "Shitty Bourbon, but hey…" _

_He swayed toward me, opening his mouth to kiss me but I pushed him back. __I'd been here worried sick about him, about what this meant for us as a family, and this is what he wanted from me?__ Hell no. Nope. "You should go to bed." I didn't want to deal with him like this. I'd never seen him intoxicated before, and I already didn't like it. "We'll talk in the morning."_

"_Or hell, y'know we can talk now," he retorted, his affection morphing to anger on a dime. He straightened himself a bit, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm open to it now. Let's talk. Why?"_

_I sighed. I didn't want to discuss this. I was tired, cranky and if he woke the twins I was going to smack him. "Why _what,_ Damon?"_

"_Why couldn't you have just waited?"_

_I shook my head, not understanding what he meant and furrowing my eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"_

"_You should have just waited! You should have waited to get the damn procedure done, Elena. Then those babies would have been mine. They would've been mine!" he cried out, purposely slamming the back of his head against the wooden surface with a loud thud just as a piercing wail resonated through the house._

_Fuck._

_I didn't bother to respond to him. __Frankly,__ I was too irate over __his absurd accusation and__ the fact that one of the twins had woken up. __I mean, how the hell was I supposed to have known he'd come into my life the moment he did?__ I shot him a glare before running to our bedroom to scoop up the crying infant. _

_Noah was at full alert, screaming the house down, his face beat red with crocodile tears streaming down his face and I quickly carried him into the kitchen to warm a bottle. I was mad that he was awake, but goddammit if Bea woke up too__,__ Damon was going to see another side to me…._

_I felt Damon's presence right behind me and I continued to rock Noah in one arm, paying him no mind while my free hand turned the stove on. I waited for the water to come to a boil; it was ironic…my temper was about to boil over too._

"_Elena…" he slurr__ed__. "Please just..."_

"_I don't want to hear it, Damon," I sneered quietly, switching Noah from my right arm to my left as it was beginning to fall asleep. "Go to bed."_

"_I was good, even though I made a mistake…"_

"_Excuse me?" I snapp__ed__, losing it. I secure__d__ my grip on my son before walking up to him and poking him in the chest. "You were 'good'? You call running out on your family 'good__'__? Well, shit, Damon! Maybe I should give you a prize. What would you like? A free-pass? You're officially off the hook."_

"_I…Elena, I…" he stammered, and I looked over my shoulder to find him pale__,__ a pained grimace etched over his face. _

"_Damon?"_

_Not three seconds later, his hand flew to his stomach and lurched forward before bolting from the kitchen. I was about to follow him when I heard the sound of water spilling onto the heated surface of the stove. I switched off the heat and placed the bottle of milk into the steel pot, moving it onto one of the other burners._

_I placed Noah in one of the baby swings while the bottle warmed up and went to where I knew Damon would be. I heard his retching as I reached the powder room and winced. He was probably regretting his sob-session with Jim Beam, and I wasn't about to make it any worse. He'd get it when he woke up though._

_I knocked on the door before pushing it open with a soft creak. "Damon," I said quietly, frowning as I saw him wearing __a__ sheen of sweat over his brow and continuing to empty his stomach. As angry as I was, I felt bad for him. "How are you doing?"_

"_How do you think?" he barely got out as he clutched the porcelain rim and heaved into the bowl once more. When he was finished, Damon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before lifting his arm to flush the toilet and flopping against the tub as a groan fell from his lips._

_I shook my head in disappointment while I left him to it. I felt bad about leaving him alone, but I was too hurt that he sought out alcohol for comfort instead of just talking to me. I figured he was going out for a drive, not to get trashed to __drown in__ his __despair__. I went back to feed my little man his bottle, grateful that he hadn't woken up his sister, and then placed him back into his basinet before making my way back to Damon._

_Pushing open the door once again, I sighed at seeing him in the same position: resting against the side of the tub with his eyelids half-closed. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second. He was in for a shitty morning. I could tell. "Damon," I whispered._

"_Huh," he grunted, not moving an inch and keeping his eyes trained on the ground._

"_Get up and go to sleep."_

"_I'm sorry."_

"_I know."_

"_I feel like shit."_

_Yeah, well, you _look_ like shit. I d__idn__'t tell him this though; I d__id__n't want to make matters worse. He'd probably get up and go back for another round of beers. "Yeah, well. That's what you get for getting plastered."_

"_I puked."_

"_That's what happens…"_

"_Elena," he rasped, his voice still hoarse from getting sick. "I fucked up."_

"_Yeah, you did." I leaned against the sink, keeping my distance from him. "But again, you're drunk and I'm wiped out. We'll talk about it in the morning."_

"_I'm sorry," he mumbled again, lifting his face to finally look at me with a pitiful and pain-filled gaze._

_I looked away from him and turned around, softly ordering, "Go to bed, Damon." With that, I walked out of the bathroom and went to sleep._

* * *

"Elena." His voice is on the other side of the door, muffled, but I can still hear the desperation seeping from it as he knocks on the wooden surface. He wants to talk and I get it, I do too, but not right now. I have five minutes to myself. Five minutes that I'd like to use for myself.

_Please, just go away. _"I'd like to shower in peace, Damon."

Apparently he has other ideas, because when I open my eyes, not having heard the door open, he's standing right in front of me sans clothes in all his naked glory – and with a smug smile on his face. My heart speeds up as I briefly give him a once-over before asking shakily, "What are you –"

I don't get my question out because he cuts me off with, "I'm not perfect. Alright? I'm not perfect, I make mistakes and last night was no exception." He steps forward, closing in on me, his hair getting soaked and trailing his thumb across my lower lip as he swallows, locking his gaze on mine. "Elena, I love Bea and Noah, and I love you."

"You left again," I say hoarsely, feeling tears prick my eyes and he nods sadly.

"I know," he murmurs, reaching behind me and grabbing the loofa that's hanging on the shower head. "I screwed up, but I told you I was leaving, and I told you that I was coming back." He pours some of my orange and tonka gel into the sponge and gently begins scrubbing me.

The last time he left, he left without a single warning and I had no idea if he'd return. Last night he let me know…but it still didn't make it any easier. I want to stay angry with him, but he's right and in all honesty, he's doing a pretty great job with that loofah.

He rubs the sponge across my collar bone, and down the valley of my breasts. He never breaks eye contact with me, making this a hell of a lot more erotic than I intended this shower to be. The pressure of it lightening dramatically, the loofa glides across my skin and when it ghosts across my navel, my breath catches and my skin tingles. "What if something happened to you?" I manage.

"It didn't."

"I was worried you were going to do something stupid."

"I wouldn't kill myself," he scoffs, his eyes igniting with indignation. "I may be upset, but I'm not _that_ upset."

"I've already lost my mother in a car accident, Damon. I can't stand to lose anyone else. I really can't." He leans forward and presses his mouth to mine and damn it, he knows what his kisses do to me.

"I know," he mumbles sincerely against my lips. "I'm sorry." He backs my all too willing body up against the wall and drops the loofa, his hands trailing down my hips and his fingers dancing along my skin making my nerves sing.

"I was worried about you."

"You didn't need to be…I'm sorry, Elena," he whispers in my ear for the millionth time, "I know how I can make it up to you."

_Oh, God… _

I gasp as his thumb suddenly flicks my clit and I hear him snicker before he dips his head and swirls his tongue with mine. _Damn him. _The combination of the warmth of the water and warmth pooling inside of me already has my breath quickening.

"Sex may be out of the question for a few weeks, but so long as I keep right…_here_," he plays with me again, smirking when my hands shoot out to grasp his slicked shoulders for support. "We can still have fun."

His eyes are dark with desire as he drops to his knees, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me closer, burying as his face in my curls. His tongue slowly licks up and down my slit, careful not to penetrate me; I'm still too sore for that and my body isn't ready.

Damon then takes a quick swipe, licking me like an ice cream cone and catching me off guard. It causes me to jump. He laughs huskily, nuzzling the most intimate part of me, reveling in my involuntarily reaction to his touch.

"Damon," I breathe. "The twins…oh," I moan as he grazes my clit with his teeth. "Damon, the twins –"

"Are asleep," he answers gruffly, nipping at me. He taps his ear. "We'll hear them if they start crying."

"But," I gasp as he assaults me again, focusing strictly on my bundle of nerves that are now on fire. "Oh, fuck. We have to hurry."

"Then hold onto something."

My insides coil as he quickly works me up to a fever pitch, bringing me right to the edge before backing off and then giving me his all; I tumble right off the edge when he bites down and I'm glad I'm already in the shower.

When I finally calm down enough to stand on my own, Damon's got that infuriatingly smug grin glued to his face. "You're welcome, babe."

I roll my eyes and tell him to, "Wipe that look off of your face."

He literally wipes his mouth, but not to erase his smirk. He stands up and nuzzles my neck that's dripping from both sweat and water. "So," he snickers, pressing his lips to the column of my throat. "Do you forgive me?"

I huff, but concede and giggle softly when his fingers gently prod my ribs. "I forgive you."

His grin widens and he strokes my face, continuing to press kisses to my neck and collarbone that have my eyelashes fluttering. "I didn't mean to scare you," he promises.

"You didn't drive home, did you?" I whisper, letting the hot water continue to massage my back. "Tell me you were smart and called a cab."

Damon pulls back, giving me a look I've never seen before. _Well, that can't be good. _He blinks once before pulling the shower curtain open and getting out. _Uh-oh. _"I'm going to tell you something…" he says slowly. "…And I need you to not flip out."

_Yeah. This isn't…Oh, shit. What now?_

"I wasn't alone at the bar."

_Oh. _

_Well, okay then. I can handle that. _

He was probably with Ric or Ben. If he was with either of them or Harper then he was at least in good company and I can handle that. They were assholes for letting him drink so much, but hey, he wasn't alone and he didn't drive home under the influence. As I switch off the shower, I reach for the fluffy towel located on the lid of the toilet and wrap it around me.

"I have to admit that I'm disappointed in the people you call friends, Damon. They really let you get that drunk?"

I don't hear his response. I get out of the shower and see that he's gone. I dry myself off some, feeling my heart race. Something's off about my theory. It makes me nervous and I'm not sure why, but I know I'm about to find out.

"I didn't drive. I grabbed a cab and went to the bar," he says, flashing a strained grin. He must have pulled on his boxers during his earlier warning. "Originally I went with Ric. Said he needed to get out and I thought it was perfect, y'know because I did too." He runs his hand through his damp hair and laughs shakily. "I needed to get out too…"

"Damon –"

"He left early and I noticed her at the far end…she looked smashed and was about to fall asleep so I offered to take her home; we shared a cab." He dropped his gaze. "We reached her house, and I was apparently coherent enough to help her out of the car and then she was planting one on me."

My mind immediately flashes to Katherine. That bitch will not give up. She's determined on ruining my life and mine and Damon's relationship. "Katherine was there?"

"Elena, it wasn't Katherine." He hesitantly lifts his gaze to mine as he utters, "It was your blonde friend; the British one. Rebekah."

Rebekah kissed Damon? _That fucking whore! _"What?" I hiss and he raises his hands. "What the hell was she doing kissing you? Did you kiss her back?"

"No, of course not!" he snaps, after a moment of pause. "I mean…I don't…I don't think I did. I would never –"

"You don't think you did," I let out a breath, clenching my teeth together and laughing bitterly; my vision clouds up as I say, "I can't believe she would do that. What happened? Did it escalate? What did you do about it, Damon?"

"I," he shrugs, shaking his head, "I shoved her off of me. She was wobbly on her feet, obviously in a drunken stupor, but I told her to sleep whatever was wrong with her _off._"

"You don't think you kissed her back?" I ask, my voice breaking. I need to hear him again.

"No," he promises, walking right up to me and cupping my face, wiping my tears with his thumbs. "Babe, I have zero interest in her." He smirks softly, winking as he tells me, "Blondes aren't my thing."

I believe him. I do, but Rebekah and I are going to have one hell of a conversation. Damon is _mine_. "I'm going to bed," I sigh, pulling out of his embrace, but before I fully escape, he grabs my wrist.

"Please, don't go to bed mad."

"I'm not mad, Damon; I'm hurt." His pained countenance makes my heart ache, but he needs to know how I feel. None of this would've happened had he just stayed. "I'm hurt that you felt the need to find solace at the bottom of a bottle, away from us, and now I'm hurt to find out that someone I thought I could call a friend laid a move on you."

I could rip her long locks out of her hair and jump rope with them. It's an entertaining thought and the more I think about it, the more tempting the idea becomes. Hmm...maybe I could arrange it…

"She was drunk, Elena. We were both drunk."

"Exactly," I huff, annoyed that I have to explain what that means. "Rebekah was drunk. Drunken words, actions; they're all sober thoughts."

His thumb strokes my wrist, waiting for me to yank away from him. When I don't, his grip tightens and he pulls me closer against him. His lips graze my ear. "I'm sorry I hurt you by leaving last night." His voice is so gentle it makes my eyes sting. His form of coping is running; this is the second incident that proves it and while I love him, so much, I can't subject my children to that.

"I let myself get my hopes up," he continues, not noticing that my thoughts had been drifting. "I actually convinced myself that Bea and Noah were mine –"

"They _are_ yours,"I whimper.

"Shhh. I know." He gives me a sad smile, placing his soft lips on my forehead. "I was pissed off; I did something I shouldn't have done," he chuckles sadly, shaking his head. "When the going gets tough…" he swallows. "It won't happen again. I won't mess up again, Elena." His expression is solemn as he promises, "I swear. I will never leave you again."

I nod, unable to put either of us through anymore torture.

"I'll love them as if they were my own. I already do." I give him another tiny nod and he asks, "You believe me, right? You believe me when I tell you that I love them?" I nod again, swallowing thickly as he says, "You should try to get some rest. They'll be waking up in an hour or two."

I leave for the bedroom, confused when I don't hear his steps following me. "Aren't you coming to bed?" I ask.

"Not sure if I deserve it," he answers honestly. "Don't worry about the babies; I'll be awake. Work in the AM and all. I'll take the couch again." Again? That means he slept on the couch last night when he got home. Huh. Well, good. He'd deserved those uncomfortable lumps.

Rolling my eyes at his self-punishment, I shake my head. "Get in here," I order, giving him a lighthearted glare and holding my hand out to him. He takes a deep breath, walking up to me and taking it.

I crawl into bed after I change into a clean gown and he pulls me close to him. "You're not gonna kill the girl, are you," he whispers, nestling his face into my hair.

"I can't make any promises. I can't believe she did that. She knows what you mean to me."

I feel his smirk against my skin as he nips at my ear. "Trust me; she knows what you mean to _me, _too_."_

"What did you say to her? Oh!" I gasp quietly, squeezing the arm that's wrapped around my torso. "Did you tell her to beat it?"

"I was nice about it," he chuckles softly. "But, yes. I did. I told her that I was in love with the mother of my children, and that I wouldn't be in this mess had I just been honest with you from the get-go."

"Damon…"

"What? You were right. They're mine but I should've told you how I felt instead of numbing the pain with alcohol." He kisses me tenderly before whispering, "It's late…well, ridiculously early. Go to sleep." I hear his content sigh as he breathes, "I love you."

* * *

I wake up a few hours later, my arm reaching out to feel the bed empty. Opening my eyes and rolling onto my side, I frown when I see a note on Damon's pillow. _What the hell?_

I pick it up, my heart clenching as I read the words:

_E, _

_I'm a pain in the ass, but know that even though I'm not perfect, and will probably continue to make mistakes, that I love you. I don't deserve you, but I'm happy to call you mine. See you tonight._

– _Damon_

_PS. Gave the twins their bottles. They should be good until 7._

I look at the clock and see that it's 5:30 am. Bless him.

_When I get home, we'll discuss living arrangements…that is, if you still think you can tolerate living with my stupid ass._

Smiling, I reach on my nightstand to grab my phone and quickly send him a text.

_New Message_

_To: Damon Sexytore: _I like your ass too much.

He responds five minutes later.

_New Message:_

_From: Damon Sexytore: It is pretty nice, isn't it? _;)

After waking up to the babies' cries an hour and a half later, I manage to feed them, calm them down, and then I have Caroline come over. She reaches for Noah, and when we move into the living room, she plays with his little fingers and toes, gently bouncing him in her lap while I hold Bea. That's when I tell her everything.

_Everything._

She's my best friend so that shouldn't be a surprise. I tell her about Damon walking out after learning the results of the paternity test. Surprisingly, that's not what had her flipping out, though she did show her annoyance. What had her flipping out was the fact that Rebekah – drunk or not – kissed my boyfriend.

"She did_ what?"_ she gasps, her jaw dropping and gripping my thigh. "You're kidding! And Damon just stood there?"

"He said he didn't kiss her back…"

"So what? He could have told her to get lost!"

"He did."

"Oh, well…that's good." She relaxes, a bit, before shaking her blonde curls and spazzing out again. "Elena…she told me the other day that she had her eye on someone since the baby shower, but I thought, especially after my warning about going after _him – _you know, not to – that she was talking about Ben! Or Harper! Holy shit! She wants Damon!" Noah gurgles and brings her out of her mini-frenzy. She smiles wistfully at him. "He's so cute. You are so cute," she coos tapping him on the nose and I laugh when she proceeds with making baby noises.

"Is everything worked out, though?"

"With Damon and me?"

Caroline shakes her head before nodding furiously. "Yes with you and Damon! Surely, you know where his heart lies."

"Yeah…yeah, I know. I'm just –"

"Just what?"

"I'm worried. Okay?" I gesture to the twins and then at my not so toned stomach. "Rebekah is beautiful and she's not tied down by two kids." Caroline rolls her eyes and I press on with, "What? It's true! Damon is by my side now, but who's to say that in the next three weeks he changes his mind. I can't give him sex, Care; what if he gets…I don't know. What if he gets restless?"

She scoffs. "There are still ways to give each other pleasure without….y'know," she hints, apparently not wanting to say the word 'sex' in front of the twins. "And even without it, Damon loves you. You need to trust him."

"I do trust him…it's Rebekah that I don't trust."

"You trust Damon not to do anything and that should be enough." She's right. I know she's right.

Rebekah is off my friends' list and on my hit list if she ever pulls something like this again. I'm a forgiving girl, but fool me once…

"Let it go for now." Caroline gives me a soft smile while saying the warning; she knows me – she knows I'll fight for what's mine and she tells me without words that I don't have to worry about him falling for that blonde tramp's schemes.

* * *

_One Week Later…._

Everything – minus the basinets and the bigger furniture – have been carefully packed and wrapped and placed into cardboard boxes. Damon's at work and told me not to worry about moving anything that could cause me to tear a muscle. Noah and Bea are with Care so that I can move without having to take a break every hour to tend to them. Not that I mind tending to them and all, but I'm going nuts. I thought this mothering deal was supposed to get easier, not more difficult. God bless Caroline for taking the twins off my hands so that I don't have to worry. I'm always worrying now, about Damon and Bea and Noah. I called Dad to see if he knew how to make all this worrying and anxiety stop but he only said, "Ha. You wish, Laney. It only gets worse."

I'm about to load the last box into the U-Haul when I hear a car door slam. I look up and see Rebekah walking towards me with a glint in her eyes.

If she's about to start something, then bring it on, bitch.

"What do you want?" I ask her curtly, skipping the formalities. She's got a lot of nerve showing up here alone. "Haven't you caused enough trouble?"

She crosses her arms and her lips press into an annoying little pout. "Damon told me to stay away from you, but I thought, 'Screw it'. When do I ever do what I'm told?" She walks closer until she's nose to nose with me, tilting her head as if to intimidate me with her height. "You should know that I get what I want, Elena." Her pout pulls until it's an irritating grin. I could slap it off of her face. "And I want Damon."

"Are you serious? He's in a committed relationship with me. And even if he weren't, he wants nothing to do with you, Rebekah."

"That's not what he said while he was fucking me senseless Friday night."

My face falls and my heart skips a beat. "You're lying."

"I woke up with a killer headache and tangled in my sheets, naked as a jaybird." Her grin widens when my eyes do.

"Damon wouldn't cheat on me."

"I can see why you're desperate to keep him around, Elena. He's_ fantastic_ in bed."

"You're lying!" I shout, pushing her away from me. "Damon wouldn't do that! He said he told you to sleep whatever was wrong with you off and he told you he loves me."

"Oh, I did sleep whatever was wrong with me off. I got rid of my drought. I came twice, screaming." She laughs at the burning in my cheeks. I don't know how I'm restraining myself from attacking her. "And then he followed me right over. He made a quick exit afterward, but hey." She starts backing away from me, no doubt getting ready to leave. "Drunk or not, the lust and want in his eyes was real. Sucks that _you _have to be celibate for…what, two more weeks? That doesn't mean Damon does. And he hasn't been. He wouldn't have sought after me had you just given him a blowjob or two."

"You took advantage of him," I snarl. "He wasn't using his head."

"Oh, _yes, _he was," she nods, flashing a wicked grin. "He used his mouth too."

I fly at her, grappling her shoulders and throwing her against the side of the truck. "You stay away from us!" I yell, barely recognizing my voice. "And stay the hell away from Damon!"

"I told you, Elena," she says breathlessly, not even bothering to put up a fight. "I get what I want and after seeing Damon at the baby shower, and then having Damon last week, he's all that I want. You may want to go searching for a new Sugar Daddy because after I'm done, he won't bother with you anymore."

"I thought you were my friend, Rebekah," I growl, dropping my hold and feeling my stomach roll. "How could you do this to me?"

"We went shopping a few times. That hardly equals a friendship."

"You're going to try to break up a family?"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You two aren't married, Elena! Not that it would stop me. Damon's not tied down to you. He's technically a free man still. And as for the brats? He'll drop them like he's going to drop you."

I can't hold back anymore. I rear back and slap her, her face whipping to the side. A red handprint is already rushing to the surface and she rubs it while laughing. The sound is sickening. _She_ is sickening.

"Elena, you little bitch," she giggles, halfheartedly pushing me away and I stumble backwards. "I didn't know you had it in you." She tilts her head as she purrs, "You may want to rethink your moving plans." Gesturing to the truck behind her, she shakes her head pitifully at me. "Poor Elena. I can see the wheels turning in your head. 'How could I have been so blind?' 'I thought he was being honest,' 'Why didn't I see the signs?'" she bites her lip, loving the effect her words are having on me.

"Get out of here." I have nothing more to say to her and if she sticks around any longer, I'm going to rip her throat out.

"You really believed him, didn't you? I mean he may have told me he loves you, but people fall in and out of love every day. I'm not worried in the slightest…you, however, should be."

"Leave, Rebekah."

"Fine, I'll go," she nods. "Have a nice rest of your day, Elena." She gets into her little Volkswagen Bug and stops as she steps one foot into it. "Remember what I said about your moving plans." She winks once, shuts the door and drives off.

The moment she's out of sight, I grab my keys, pull the door to the U-Haul down, lock it and hop in. I have one goal that's blaring in my mind right now: find out the truth about what happened Friday night. Damon will be honest with me if he knows what's good for him. If not, he can kiss me and the twins goodbye.

* * *

_AN: *runs and hides* I'm a little anxious to hear the response...but please share your thoughts with me by leaving a review! ~Kate_


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: *pats down self while checking for injuries* I'm alive? You guys didn't kill me? *breathes a deep sigh of relief* If you've read my stories, then you know I love angst, but usually opt for a happily ever after as an ending. Speaking of, this is the final chapter. I know! I thought there'd be more…turns out…not so much. The characters said, 'we think this is it,' and by forcing a story to go on and on, it ruins it. I don't want to do ruin FoSLI. So, this is the end. Anyway, I truly hope you enjoy! ~Kate_

_Thank you to Morgan, for your beta work! :)_

* * *

Red-hot fury sears through every fiber of my being. Sure, heartbreak is threatening to damn near break me, but holy shit does it pale in comparison to the betrayal I feel. How could I have been so goddamn stupid? How could Damon have done this to me? Rebekah was lying. She had to have been lying her ass off, right?

But she stared me right in the eye. She had an infuriatingly smug pout slapped on her face and stared me right in the fucking eye. Maybe she was just a talented liar.

…Or maybe she wasn't lying at all.

Maybe Damon did get restless and used his intoxication as an excuse to get the release that he was craving…if he'd slept with her…

No.

I need to believe Damon. He said he loved me, that he was in love with me, and you don't hurt the ones you love like that. You don't do that. You don't risk everything, risk throwing it all away just so you can…

I take a deep breath and bury it, bury it all for the duration of the drive. I am heading towards the hospital – as fast, but as safe, as possible – ready to give Damon a piece of my mind. I reach for my purse and yank it towards me over the armrest and throw my hand into the bag. Pulling out my Iphone, I hastily slid the tab to start tapping the number keys.

I need to call Caroline. I need to tell her to watch the twins for just a little while longer and promise to repay her with a shopping spree. I'm so glad to know that I can always use her love for spending money as a reward.

She picks up on the first ring. "Elena! They're fine. You don't have to call to check up on them."

"I know," I tell her in a choked voice. If she figures out I'm upset, I'll never get off the phone with her. I only need her to keep watching Bea and Noah. "Want to babysit for a bit longer?"

"Of course! You know I love these two."

"Thanks, Care." _Click._

There was no way I was going to be able to keep talking to her without bursting into tears. The droplets started falling during the conversation and my throat had been in pain to keep from sobbing. Once I get myself together, and as a traffic light flicks to red, I look into the rearview mirror and wipe the smudged mascara from my eyes. I'm three minutes away from the hospital. I don't really care what Damon is going to think when I get there – he'd seen me at my worst, all drowsy-eyed and covered with sweat while giving birth to Bea and Noah – but I do care about what his co-workers think and it isn't my intention to draw attention.

After I'm moderately presentable, I call up Damon and his voicemail picks up. Growling, I hang up and try again. I don't want to leave a fucking message for him. I'm going to have to keep a level head, saving my – what I'm sure is going to happen – inevitable breakdown for when we're face-to-face.

I try again.

"Damon Salvatore speaking. How can I help you?" Damon demands professionally, once he finally picks up the phone.

"It's me."

"Hey, babe," he says quickly. "I'm getting ready to go into a delivery, what do you need?"

"What do I need?" I snarl, failing to stay calm. Huh. So much for that plan. "Are you serious? You're kidding me, right?" I adjust the wheel as I make a turn, continuing another straight path, pressing my foot down harder on the gas pedal as I feel my heartbeat thud harder inside of my chest. What do I need? He's making it sound like I'm imposing; granted, he is on the clock, but still – this is important.

"Well?" he asks, trepidation present in his voice now. "What's wrong?"

He has no idea…but he's about to find out. "We need to talk. I'm on my way to the hospital."

"Jesus, you're driving, aren't you?" his panicked voice raises through the phone. "You need to slow down, I can hear the engine revving from over here. Where are Bea and Noah? Tell me they're not in the car, Elena."

"No, Damon, they're not in the car." How the hell am I staying so calm? "They're with Caroline."

"Okay, well…" I hear muffled voices and then Damon's heavy sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll throw on some scrubs and head over there." His voice grows louder when he turns his attention into the phone once again. "I've got to go, babe."

"Fine," I bite out, struggling to keep my voice even and trying my best to dislodge the lump in my throat. "I'll see you soon."

"I love y –"

_Click._ I hang up before he finishes speaking. I cannot bear to listen to him say those words knowing there's a possibility he's screwed around on me. It hurts too much and I won't put myself through any more pain than I have to.

* * *

Rose won't let me past the double doors. Sure, okay, I understand why, but she needs to understand that I'm in a fucking hurry. Father or no, Damon plays a very large role in my life and if he did what the blonde bitch is accusing him of…then we are going to have a huge problem.

I have most of my life in a U-Haul that's parked just outside in the hospital's parking lot, ready to grab the twins and run if it turns out that Damon fucked around on our family. I'm sitting here, twiddling my thumbs and bobbing my knees up and down when I receive a text message with a photo attached.

_New Message:_

_From Care BFForbes: Bea & Noah miss Mommy. Will bring them over tonight!_

I open the attachment and see the babies in their baby swings – yes, Caroline demanded she buy swings for her house too. The twins appear to be watching Baby Einstein; they're too young for it to be of a benefit to them, but they seem to be happily occupied by all the colors. Works for me. Though, my heart constricts at their wide, bright eyes and tears threaten to fall from mine. If Damon had done what Rebekah had accused him of, I'm not going to be the only one hurt…

_New Message:_

_To Care BFForbes: Tell them I love them. Thanks again, C. Xo_

"Elena." I swallow thickly at the urgent and breathy voice. When I look up, I find Damon standing there in front of me, decked in his blue scrubs, staring at me and panting. He'd run here. I feel my eyes burning. I stand up while he approaches me, crossing my arms over my chest, guardedly and when I don't close the distance, he does. He isn't blind. My body language and death glare makes it pretty fucking obvious that I'm pissed. "…You okay?" he asks, concern etched into his features.

"No," I hiss quietly, quickly escaping his reach when he tries to embrace me. "Guess who showed up while I was packing?"

He shakes his head, not seeming to understand before his movements cease and his eyes widen with horror, dawning right on cue with his realization. "She didn't."

"Oh, she did," I manage shakily, feeling the rest of my body trembling as well.

"What was she thinking?"

"What were you thinking?" I snap; my voice cracking as I utter the last word. He tilts his head, furrowing his brows in what appear to be confusion. He doesn't seem to get it – but he will. "Oh, yeah. I know about what happened last week. You've got a lot of explaining to do."

"You're saying it wrong," he tries to quip, but it falls horridly flat. "You're missing the accent." I glare at him and he looks around the waiting room nervously. Fortunately for me, the room is empty which means that – for now – we are free to hash this thing out, no holds barred, without any interruptions. Rose is gone too; she's off taking her break. "Baby…"

"Do not call me 'baby,' you cheating jackass!"

Damon recoils as if I've just struck him. His oceanic orbs soften as he takes a careful step forward. "What the hell did she tell you, Elena?" he asks, his voice dropping low and reaching out to touch me. But when I shrink away from him again, he pulls back.

"What do you think she said to me?"

He grunts, dipping his eyebrows and curling his lip. "I'm guessing she made whatever happened between us Friday night sound a lot worse than what I told you." When I don't respond, he says, "Didn't she? She tried to turn you against me?"

"She's trying to take you away from me…" I choke, wiping away the errant tears that finally fall down my face. "She wants to take you away from me and Bea and Noah."

"That'll never happen," he promises, ignoring the hand I hold up to keep him where he is. He touches my face and then cups it in his hands. I lean into his touch, looking up at him as he utters a strained, "That'll never happen."

He presses his lips to my forehead just as I whimper, "She told me you two slept together."

He relaxes slightly, pulling away just enough so that he can stare right into my eyes. "I screwed up by letting her kiss me, but I did not cheat on you." His gaze never falters, never deviates from mine. His voice is steady and firm and he's nodding, willing me to believe him. "Okay?"

"Yes," I whisper as his hands fall from my face. God, I'd done it again. I'd freaked first before asking questions.

"You really believed her," he asks sadly as his hands start to finger my hair, stroking it and then playing with the ends. I open my eyes, staring at him through my tears and clouded vision. "You didn't come here to talk…you came here to break up with me, didn't you?"

"I came to find out the truth…and I would never stay with a cheater. Damon, she said you were good in bed." God, that hurts like a bitch to voice out loud. "She said that you were together multiple times that night."

He takes a moment to think those words over when he suddenly smirks, saying, "Well, I _am_ good in bed." He laughs nervously at my unimpressed stare and then I turn around quickly on my heels.

"Then you and Rebekah enjoy yourselves," I snap. Too soon, _babe_. He grabs my wrist before I can even take three steps.

"Elena, wait. I was kidding."

I yank away from him and keep walking, excusing myself as I accidentally bump into one of the nurses that's coming out of an exam room. I don't want to hear him try to turn this into a joke, but he's closing in on me and the next thing I know he is gently grabbing my waist and whirling me around to face him.

"You need to listen to me."

"Listen to you turn my worst fear into a punch-line?" I cry out, my voice breaking. "Damon, this isn't funny!"

"You're right," he quickly agrees. "Elena, you're right, it isn't funny. Nothing about this is funny. I'm sorry," he frowns. His face softens, his eyes lighting up as something seems to dawn on him. Miserably, he murmurs, "I'm always apologizing to you." Damon shakes his head and swallows thickly, his voice hardening. "What all did she say?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!" he shouts, not caring that we are surrounded by people moving through the halls, both doctors and patients that have places they need to be but can't help themselves from pausing to stare momentarily at his outburst. He looks at them and growls, "There's no show here. Move on."

"Damon, knock it off; you're the one who's causing a scene!"

"I'm not the one causing a scene," he says angrily. "You're the one who refuses to sit still and hear me out." I'm waiting for the panic in his eyes, the look that says 'Shit, she knows,' but all I can see in their depths is determination, anger, and worry…but he also looks calm, not on edge; like he wants to soothe my panic but is desperate to get me to believe him. He pulls me, my legs nearly tripping over themselves to keep up with him as he brings me into an empty exam room. "Everything matters when it comes to you and this family, Elena."

My stomach flips at the devastation in his gaze. He's heartbroken over the fact that I had any doubt in him. I'd doubted him. Aside from his abandonment scare when I was pregnant with the twins, he'd never disappeared on me, never gave me any reason to question his trust. Had I seriously believed someone I knew for all of two months compared to the man I knew six times longer?

What the hell is wrong with me?

Damon had never, not once, intentionally hurt me…and drunk or not, I should have known better. Damon would have never cheated on me...he'd never break my heart like that.

"It's all a lie, isn't it?" I question softly. "She was lying."

He nods emphatically, promising, "That night I brought her home, she kissed me…and it took me all of a minute to snap out of it. When I told her how I feel about you, she tried to hit me and walked…well, stumbled up to her apartment."

I can't believe all of my earlier distress was for nothing. I should have known she was lying, but when he kept sputtering about Friday night about having fucked up…that must have been what he was talking about – not reacting soon enough to her kiss. Rebekah had pounced, taken advantage of a drunken man, hoping it would be enough to get him to fall into bed with her. She'd failed miserably…for now. I frown at the thought. She made it clear that she wasn't going to give up. "She wants you, Damon."

He gives me a pointed look as his thumb runs along my jawbone and then over my bottom lip. "I know we've been through a lot in the last eleven months but… you do trust me, right?"

"Yes." My response is immediate. Of course I do and I'm stupid for having ever questioned it.

"Good," he breathes, his shoulders sagging in relief. His gaze fills with love, softening. "Then, I need you to trust me when I tell you that Rebekah means nothing to me and you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm sorry," I whimper, feeling my face crumble as he tilts my chin up so he can get my attention. "I'm so sorry I doubted you."

"You wouldn't have had to doubt me had I just stuck around and talked to you." He runs his thumb over my lip and kisses each eyelid, trailing his finger to the side of my face and stroking my jaw. "I'm the one who's sorry."

"Salvatore!" a voice hollers, and we look at a man in long white coat and a clipboard in his hand. "You can play kissy-face with your gal later this afternoon. Mrs. Calloway is fully dilated."

"Time to head back," he says quietly with an easy grin. "If I tell you I love you, are you going to cut me off again?"

That was such a bitchy move. I blush at the embarrassing memory and he laughs at my apologetic pout. "Forgive me?"

"Only if you forgive me."

"Always."

"I love you, babe."

"I love you too, Damon."

* * *

I'm watching _I Love Lucy,_ the one where she's in the chocolate factory, when I hear the door creak open. "Damon, you're home." I see he's got his briefcase slung over his shoulder as well as both car seats in his hands, gurgling babies buckled securely inside of each one. I hurry to free one of his arms. "And what are you doing with Bea and Noah? Caroline said she'd bring them over."

He follows me into the living room and sets the baby down next to the couch. Then he turns to me, sinking down into the cushions, pulling me with him and giving me a sensual kiss. "Mmm," he softly moans against my lips. "Hi."

"Hi," I smile, just as he presses another kiss to my lips.

He tells me, "Caroline is fine. I just wanted to pick them up on my way home." He leans down and unbuckles Bea from her restraints first. "Didn't I, Bumble Bee?" he chuckles, gingerly swinging her into his arms. The action elicits a smile from the baby and my heart soars.

"Bumble Bee?" I giggle at the nickname while I watch Damon lean back and cradle her.

"I went into Care's family room and there was a hand with a puppet of a bee on her TV." He shakes his head and laughs. "I didn't see the appeal, but I can see how these two did. Noah looked at me, but Bea's eyes were glued to the screen, drawn to the bug." A tiny yawn escapes Bea and Damon begins to gently sway her. The comfort of Damon's arms is one of the most relaxing things I've ever experienced; she'll be asleep any minute now.

I softly graze my thumb over her cheek and call her by the name he's given her, her eyelids fluttering open with recognition before they start to pulse in attempt to stay awake. I kiss her, whispering good night – like I said, in Damon's arms, she's a goner – before freeing Noah from his car seat. "Hey, little man." He stares up at me with his deep blue eyes, twinkling and God, do I love these babies.

"I've got a surprise for you." I look at Damon and he's staring back, his gaze filled with so much love as he tells me, "There's a reason Caroline was ignoring you when you went baby shopping."

"What reason is that?" He takes Noah from my arms and places them in their baby swings. They're happy as can be; they look like they're going to fall asleep at any moment, actually. "Damon, what's that supposed to mean?" I ask quietly.

"It means don't get your panties in a twist," he smirks, walking over to me once again. He brings his hands up to shield my vision.

I'm really hoping he's taking me where I think he's taking me. He'd insisted last night that we allow the twins to sleep in our bed, in between us while he had Ric come over and carried the majority of baby paraphernalia out of the house. I thought I knew what he was planning, but he denied every guess I came up with.

I have I feeling I know where he's taking me the more I think about it and I'm getting more impatient. "How many rooms are in this house again?"

"Six, not including ours," he chuckles. "Keep walking."

"You could be leading me into a wall."

"I thought you said you trusted me."

"That was before you blindfolded me."

"Ah. We could have a lot of fun with a blindfold," Damon snickers, planting a soft kiss behind my ear; the hair at the nape of my neck stands on end and I shiver as he guides me towards his destination. I wonder if my body will ever get used to his touch…eh. Probably not.

A few minutes later, he clears his throat and says, "Alright, baby." I feel one hand slip from my face and hear a door creak open. "Open your eyes."

My lids whip open and just like that, my breath is stolen from me. The room has a single, beautiful mahogany crib that adjusts to the babies' sizes and has the Lucite panel that will let them see each other at night. It's the one I spotted when Caroline and I went shopping. On one side of the divider there's a yellow blanket with a spin mobile of green frogs and on the other side, a green blanket with a spin mobile of yellow suns. There are two changing tables on either side of the crib – one padding is yellow, the other green, and holy crap there is no way he did this by himself.

"Damon," I whisper breathlessly. _Holy crap._ "Caroline did all of this?"

"Uh," he laughs, nudging his shoulder against mine. "She helped." Damon gathers my hair in his hand and sweeps it to fall over one shoulder as he leans down, ghosting his lips across my neck, nipping at the skin there. "Now you know why she had her fingers glued to her phone that day."

"I forgive her," I giggle as his fingers prod my sides and turn me around to face him.

"What do you think of the paint job?" he asks, gesturing to the grey walls.

"It's…nice, actually." I look around and approve of the calm the color gives off. "Soothing."

"Hopefully they'll be less likely to wake up screaming in the middle of the night…y'know…while I'm making _you _scream." I smack his chest playfully and he laughs. "How much longer again?" he asks, trailing his fingers down my stomach and playing with the button on my jeans, smirking when I purposely buck against his hand.

"Two weeks."

"Hmm."

"Hmm wha – " Damon hooks his index finger under my chin and cuts me off with his lips. His tongue slips into my mouth and swirls it with mine. I'm grateful that he's got an arm around my waist; this kiss nearly takes me out at the knees. "Damon," I moan when his mouth deviates from mine, pressing scolding pecks along my neck, moving back up and gliding his tongue across causing my breath to hitch in my throat. "Please."

"Little Miss Impatient," he snickers softly, pulling away and burying his nose into the crook of my neck, nuzzling me. "Bea and Noah are probably asleep now…we have time to play."

"I want," I beg, nodding furiously, "to play with you."

Damon's mouth immediately seals over mine, reaching down and hoisting me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and the kiss deepens when I sink my hands into his soft locks, pulling him even closer to me. Carrying me to the bedroom, he murmurs against my lips, "We have a lot of ground to cover." We fall into bed and I'm already reaching for his zipper. "Easy," he smirks. "Not yet."

"You've been very patient," I purr, grinning when he cocks an eyebrow. "You shouldn't have to wait anymore."

"I can wait for you," he says softly, groaning when my fingers slip inside of his pants to wrap around his cock. "But a little attention would be nice," he admits with a strained voice and I wink. That's what I thought. His eyes darken with need when I nod eagerly. I want to make him feel good.

After shimmying out of his pants, he rolls over onto his back. I crawl on top of him and rub against him, his underwear the only thing separating us. Damon's hand skims up the bottom of my dress, along my thighs, until he reaches my bare bottom. "Fuck." His eyes roll to the back of his head as he breathes, "You're not wearing anything."

"Like you said, you're not the only one who wants to have fun." When I stay straddled on top of him, my fingers brushing near his inguinal muscle, his hand shoots out and grabs mine, yanking it off of him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"What does it feel like I'm doing?"

He shakes his head with scolding eyes, giving me a pointed look and sits up on his elbows. "Elena Gilbert, you haven't had your postpartum checkup yet." He bites his lip when my nails graze across his skin and tug at the fabric of his boxers. "I could hurt you..."

"I know my body, Damon," I promise. "I'm ready and I want to be with you." I tentatively reach down to touch him again, waiting for him to stop me – again – but I'm greeted by no such thing. Instead of trepidation in his gaze, all I see is love. "Damon," I whisper. "Kiss me."

He gladly obliges and rolls me over, pushing my hair out of my face. I've missed him for so long; it's been nearly a month since I've had him like this. Damon continues his sweet kisses, running his hands up and down my sides, before he places each on either side of my head. He removes his lips from mine for a few seconds to reach over, pull open a drawer and slide on a condom. "Too soon, yeah?" he laughs and I nod.

"Too soon. But if it did happen…"

"It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world," he agrees, smiling softly, eyeing me with a raised brow. "You're sure you want to just do this? No warm-up?"

I nod. Honestly, we may not get to the main act with the twins being in the house. I want him without any interruptions. "We'll be careful."

His nestles in between my thighs and presses his forehead against mine, his dark eyes shutting tight with the effort it's taking him not to enter me and says roughly, "We're going slowly; if it hurts too much just tell me and we'll stop. We'll –" I cover his mouth with my hand, effectively silencing him.

"You're not going to hurt me." I remove my hand from his mouth and kiss him, slipping my arms around his neck. "Make love to me, Damon." I can tell that he's watching me, searching my eyes for any doubt but when he finds none, he eases inside of me and we both let out pleasure-filled moans.

"God, I love you."

"I know you do," I murmur, reaching up and stroking his cheek. Earlier today I'd had such hate for Rebekah, and was so angry and hurt by what I thought Damon had done. But one look into his azure gaze tells me what I know deep down. This man will never intentionally hurt me. "I love you, too."

He bends down and kisses me again, our tongues dancing together as he pulls out before gently guiding himself back in. He moves again, out and then back in. "You okay?" Truth be told, I was sore when he first entered me, but he's moving so slowly that my body's quickly getting used to the pain. "Tell me you're okay," he utters in a throaty voice, but I can barely hear him. I'm too focused on the havoc he's wreaking on me with his tantalizingly unhurried pace.

"More," I breathe. "I want more."

"Elena…"

"I'm fine, Damon," I say to him. "The first time isn't supposed to be the most comfortable and it wasn't but now it is and I really just want you to move." He blinks at me before laughing and pressing his lips to mine. He swirls his hips and _oh, God,_ that's more like it. He's still being careful, but picks up the pace, moving, winding and thrusting until we're both free-falling over the edge, calling out each other's names.

Minutes later, the fingertips of Damon's right hand are dancing along my spine while his left glides across one of my arms. His touch nearly sends me to sleep, and I cuddle into him. "What are your thoughts," he finally says after we come down from our high, "on Destiny?"

"What, you mean like Fate?"

"Or something like it," he nods with an infuriatingly beautiful sideways grin. "Soul-Mates and Destiny and all that…"

"And…?"

He chuckles, kissing my temple. "What do you think? Do you believe in it?"

Before I met him, I would have given him a definite 'no' – or at the very least, an 'I don't know.' I'm still not sure on my thoughts, if I'm being totally honest. Though, I'm sure about this. There was not one man in my life that I ever met that affected me in the way that Damon affects me; the way that his voice seems to calm my fears and the way we can read each other with just a glance. I know what I feel for Damon.

I shrug. "I thought there was something wrong with me. No guy matched up to what I thought qualified as my 'One-True-Love.'"

He chortles at the notion of that – understandably – but I elbow him in the ribs, earning a mock frown from him. Damon rolls his cerulean orbs when I glare at him.

"I don't know if that exists, but I do know that I love you…" I look away from him and play with the stitching in the sheets. I'm not sure why I'm nervous as I tell him this; I've told him I love him many times before. Maybe it's because there's something telling me that what I say next is going to have a huge impact on all of us. "I don't want anybody else. You're the one that I want."

"Hmm." Damon hooks his finger to make me look at him, but the difference between this time and many others, is that I don't mind the action. I gladly look into his mesmerizing eyes and love the emotions I can see swirling in them. "You're sure about that?"

"Why?" I ask. My brows shoot upward, eliciting a laugh from Damon.

He taps my nose. "Because." He sits up, pushing me to the side and I do the same, wrapping the sheets around me. Damon gives me a look that tells me to stay where I am before he gets out of bed. My eyes are helpless to check out his ass. He really does have a great one.

He steps over to his dresser and pulls open the top drawer, grabbing a pair of underwear – typical – and throwing it on before reaching for the third drawer and stepping into a pair of dark blue jeans. I watch a hand dive behind him as he shoves something into one of his pockets. "I'll be right back," he tells me before disappearing from the room.

A few minutes later, he comes back with a baby in each arm and when I tilt my head indignantly – he woke them up! – Damon is completely unfazed when I scowl at him. He sits on the bed, and I quickly reach for his shirt that's strewn across the foot of the bed and slip into it. He holds onto Bea, hands over Noah, and I'm immediately greeted with my son's babbling. I laugh, easing him down on the bed. "Daddy, woke you up didn't he?" I coo, gently rubbing his tummy. "You can bet he's going to put you back to sleep too."

"Fine. Totally worth it," Damon releases a throaty chuckle, kissing me on the cheek and lying Bea next to her brother. "I wanted them here for a reason." He eyes me and for a quick second I see his eyes flash with anxiety before it disappears. He shifts a bit, keeping a steady hand on our little girl's legs so that she stays put, and reaches into his back pocket.

"Damon?" I question, my voice just above a whisper when he sets a little black box on my thigh.

"I love you," he says, his voice steady and his eyes sure, staring at me with those irises that have the power to knock me flat on my ass. "And I love these two as if they were my own. I want them here for this." He takes my hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I've made a few of them while with you. I'm not going to pretend I'm perfect, because we both know that I'm not; I never said I was." His blue-eyed gaze is full of wonder as he says. "Somehow, you've managed to forgive my miraculous fuck-ups –"

"Damon!" I somehow manage relink and reboot my brain to scold him for his choice of language in front of Bea and Noah.

"Sorry," he smiles apologetically, glancing at the twins. "Do as I say, not as I do." His eyes meet mine once more and he says, "Your compassion is one of the many things I love about you, Elena. And I do. I love you and I want you, forever…well," he smirks. "For as long as our hearts are beating, anyway." He gestures to the box. "Open it."

With trembling fingers, I flip the lid of the box. My brows dip together in confusion. "It's empty?" Well, this is different.

"I want you to be happy with the ring," he explains quickly. "Can't have my girl being disappointed with a ring she's going to wear for the rest of her life, now can I?"

I giggle, feeling my eyes sting. "You're awfully confident that I'm going to give you the answer you're looking for."

"Yeah," he nods with sincerity. "I would have spent a little more time rehearsing otherwise."

"When did you rehearse?"

He shrugs. "I may have gotten out of work earlier than expected and held the twins hostage while practicing for an hour, asking them what they thought."

"Did they give you their approval?" I laugh.

"No," he smirks. "But Grayson did."

"You talked to my dad?" I squeak.

"I wanted to ask him in person, but since he was still in Australia, I gave him a call." He takes Bea in his arms and kisses her forehead softly. "He sends the three of you his love," he murmurs against her skin.

I can't believe he called my father. This isn't the '50s, it's not expected or a requirement anymore…but the fact that he asked for his permission truly warms me.

"His blessing made it real," he continues. "And – you know me – I panicked. Took me a few minutes to get myself together and step through the door, knowing I was going to propose to you." He holds Bea up to his face. "Will you marry me?" he asks. Waving Bea's little hand his voice hitches into a baby voice. "Be careful with your answer, Mommy. You may just break Daddy's heart."

I giggle tearfully, and the minutes pass as I contemplate everything that has transpired over the last eleven months, and how much the two of us had overcome. We'd found out I was pregnant, and then we found out it was a high-risk pregnancy, all the while wondering if Damon was their father. I learned he had a bitchy, bitter wife – that he finally divorced once the papers came back signed a week and a half after the twins were born. Then there was a woman who had masqueraded as my friend and tried to steal my man away from me, setting him up so that I'd leave him, leaving him free for the taking.

After all of that, I'm pretty damn sure we can get through anything. I want him by my side.

The tears are flowing freely now as I nod and finally tell him, "I will." The smile that spreads over Damon's face is devastatingly beautiful. His entire face lights up as he throws his free hand around my neck and pulls me into a toe-curling kiss. "I'll marry you."

"You had me going there for a few minutes," he grins against my lips, before placing a gentle kiss to them. He pulls away and says to the babies, "Dad gets the girl, little lady and gentleman." He looks at the box and says sheepishly, "I'm sorry I didn't propose with a ring, baby."

"You proposed with our kids here," I smile. "I think that trumps jewelry."

"We'll go ring shopping. You can pick out whichever one you want." He squeezes my thigh and gets out of bed. "I think Noah is pretty apathetic on the whole deal. He's been pretty quiet."

"I think he's annoyed you woke him up."

"Ah. Right."

"Have fun," I smile waving him off as he grabs the babies.

"Bossy."

"Pot, meet kettle." I wink at him when he rolls his eyes.

"I think I should have thought this whole marriage thing through," he sighs exaggeratedly. "I signed up for a lifetime of this."

"You love me."

"I do," he flashes a million dollar smirk, "And you just agreed to a lifetime of dealing with me on a daily basis, too. Guess it's safe to say you love me too, huh?"

"I do," I laugh, loving the amount of affection surrounding this room like some cheesy scene in a romantic film. "Now," I tell him, sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt just enough so that he gets the idea of what I'd like to do with him.

"Yes, ma'am," he nods and disappears down the hall. I hear his voice as he tells Bea and Noah, "Time for you two to go back to bed. You'll be good right? Please, be good."

I grin and quickly peel the rest of the shirt away, knowing full-well he's going to be back in a few minutes. As I lay in the bed and wait, I can't help but think about how differently my life may have turned out had I not met Damon. I would have still gotten Bea and Noah…I would have had the life I'd planned for myself, but I'd be without him...and that thought alone brings me right on back to the present.

Fate, Destiny, Soul-Mates, One-True-Loves…like I said, I still don't know if such things exist, but there's one thing I do know: I love Damon, and he is enough for me. After all, I did just agree to marry him.

* * *

_AN: So there it is. The final chapter of 'Fate, or Something Like It.' Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed over the course of this story. Hearing all of your passionate outbursts, ramblings, and general enthusiasm has made this one of the most memorable stories to have shared with you all. Each review has brought a smile to my face. What started out as an experiment with a possibility of never being continued, has turned into a story I can't imagine having not. Thank you again. Would love it if you took the time to share your final thoughts with me. Oh! There will be a short epilogue, so be on the lookout for that! Xo, Kate_


	9. Chapter 9

_AN: Here it is! The Epilogue to 'Fate or Something Like It.' Ugh. I'm not ready to let this story go yet, but it's time. Prepare for a chapter full of fluffy love. *hands out paper bags in case you all feel the need to vomit* ~Kate_

_Mini-note: Morgan, thank you for all of your help, you lovely beta, you! Thank you for listening to my ramblings, making sense of what I wanted to say, taking so much time out of your day to edit and beta this thing. I couldn't have done this without you! Hugs and kisses to you, my friend! Xo._

* * *

_Four Years Later…_

"You're home, Daddy!" Bea cries, running out of my arms and towards Damon when he steps through the door. A huge smile breaks over his face as she collides into him, throwing her arms around one of his knees. "Did you bring me and Noah presents?"

Damon laughs, stroking a hand over her dark hair and playfully tugging at her purple ribbon, causing her to look up at him with wide brown eyes. "Hello to you too, munchkin."

"Well, did you?" she asks excitedly. "Did you bring us presents?"

"When did I stop being your dad and start being Santa every day of the year?"

"I'm sorry," she frowns, hugging him tighter and burying her face into his pant leg. "Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, Bumble Bee," he grins, bending down and picking her up, earning a squeal of glee from our little girl when he tickles her. Damon rests her on his hip and asks, not having seen me yet, "Where's Mommy?"

"Mommy's right here," I wave from my spot on the couch. I haven't been feeling great today, so after Damon came home from work, he went to the nearest drug store for some over-the-counter nausea medicine. His gaze softens when it meets mine and he sets Bea down on her feet.

"Where's your brother?" he asks her and when she points to their room, he says, "Go on and play with him. I'll be in there in a few minutes." She nods eagerly and runs off with her curly pony tail whipping back and forth behind her. His smile disappears as he sits beside me, holding out an arm. I lean into his side and he pulls me close. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I ate something rotten," I admit, curling into him.

Damon, Stefan, Caroline and I got together last night and ordered take-out, but I know it's not the food. I've been running myself ragged, wearing myself down by trying to keep up with two four-year-olds. It wouldn't surprise me if my immune system is just shot and I caught a bug. After quitting the firm to be a full-time mom, I chose to spend every minute experiencing every moment of the twins' childhood. I don't regret the decision to leave my job, but I do wish I'd thought it through just a_ little_ more. Taking care of twins is hard work.

"Here," he says holding up a brown paper bag.

I take it from him and unroll the top, stick my hand inside and pull out two boxes. One is for my nausea, the other... "Damon, what is this?"

"Uh," he smirks, waggling his eyebrows. "What does it look like?"

A pregnancy test. That's what it looks like and that's what it is. I do know that there's a possibility. We'd discussed trying again, but only just. I'd be blown away if it turns out I'm already pregnant. "Do you think?"

"It's possible."

I notice the hope lingering in his eyes and I want to give him what he wants. I want another baby too, but I don't know if I've been feeling all gross because of a pregnancy or because of some silly flu. He unwraps his arm from my waist to let me up and I stand a little too quickly. The room starts spinning and my vision flashes in and out.

"Elena," he says worriedly, quickly standing up and steadying my swaying form by taking a firm, but tender grip on my arms. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I blink a few times, trying to get my vision to knock it off with the swimming. "I just…don't feel well." When my surroundings stabilize, I try to walk and Damon's grip tightens while he moves with me. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you to the bathroom." I look up to glare at him, but all I can see in his gaze is concern.

"What," I ask lightly, "You don't think I can make it on my own?"

"Yes, but I don't want you having another fainting spell and hitting your head on the countertop."

I roll my eyes, but allow him to keep his hands on me until I make it into the powder room. He stays. "You staying for the show, or?" I smirk and he chuckles, still not moving from his spot. "Damon, come on, I'll be out in a few minutes." He doesn't move. "It's weird having you watch me pee."

"I've watched you push two kids out of your vagina."

"Damon!" I hiss, looking past him to make sure neither toddler has overheard him. "That's not the point." I point a strong finger in his direction. "Out."

"But –"

"Now."

I push him back and shut the door, locking it to make sure he doesn't come in. I stare down at the little plastic stick. "Positive," I chant to myself. "Please, be positive."

* * *

Three minutes later, I look down and am greeted with our answer. Opening the door, Damon's in the same place he was 180 seconds ago.

"Well?" he asks eagerly, trying to read my expression while simultaneously trying to sneak a peek at the results. "Are we giving the twins a sibling?"

I shake my head, a little disappointment leaking into my voice. "Not yet."

"So it didn't happen the first time." Damon runs his hands down my arms, placing a kiss on my lips and linking our fingers together. I let out a loud huff and move past him, heading for Bea and Noah's playroom when I suddenly hear a loud wail. I run towards the twins with Damon hot on my heels, knowing something's wrong and moving as fast as we can to reach them.

"Mommy!" my little boy cries, running away from his sister and right towards me. "Bea said that Daddy said she is his favor-rite!"

"Oh, baby," I laugh, carefully kneeling and wiping the crocodile tears from his eyes. "You know he loves you both the same."

He shakes his head. "That's not what she said," he sniffs, wiping his nose and sticking his tongue out at her when Bea smiles widely, placing her hands on her hips, raising a proud brow. She is so like Damon sometimes, it's frightening.

"Oh, come on, Noah," Damon sighs, ruffling his hair when he enters the room. I grab the molding of the doorframe and slowly stand, feeling my husband's hand on the small of my back. "You're both my favorite."

"We can't both be your favor-rite!" Noah yells petulantly. "It doesn't _work_ that way!"

"You're right," he nods and I'm about to slap him for putting any more doubt in our child's mind than necessary. "Bea's my favorite bumble bee and you're my favorite little buddy. You know that."

Noah glares, but he seems to finally be placated. "Okay." He smiles up at us. "I want another sister."

Mine and Damon's eyes lock and he smirks slightly. "Yeah?"

"Yep. To take Bea's spot."

"I can't help it that I'm the bestest twin," Bea retorts with a roll of her eyes. We both burst into laughter and Noah stomps his foot. "He's ob-veesly jealous!"

"What!" he shouts. "Am not! Mommy, Daddy, do something!" He angrily shoves Bea. "Stop lying, Bea! I'm not…jeal…whatever you just said!"

"Easy," Damon announces warningly, grabbing his collar and pulling him back when he goes to push her again. "Be nice to your sister."

"Sorry," he grumbles, crossing his arms and barely looking at her. He shuffles over to me, keeping his eyes on the floor and he's embarrassed. I bend down to kiss his cheek to let him know that it's okay.

When I come up, stars start dancing in my vision. "It's...it's…"

The last things I hear before my world goes black is a confused, "Mommy?" and a horrified, "Elena!"

* * *

_One Week Later…_

I wake to a velvety voice calling my name. Damon's face comes into focus and his fingers brush over my hair. My stomach has been churning all day; I don't have a fever but my appetite is next to non-existent. He's been keeping an eye on me for the better part of three days while I try to kick this damn flu.

"Baby, you need to try and eat something." Damon's hand gently strokes over my stomach while his other pushes back stray locks behind my ear. I shake my head and he frowns. "You haven't eaten in days. You're going to starve."

"If I eat, it's just going to end up in the toilet in five minutes like the last meal."

Like I said, the thought of food has my stomach rolling. I've been stuck in bed, curled up in a ball while Caroline keeps Bea and Noah away from me at her house. I don't want to get them sick. Hell, I don't want to get Damon sick, but he won't let me shake this on my own.

"Maybe I should call in today."

"No." I shake my head before he can get the sentence out, lifting myself up to lean against the headboard. "You've missed enough work as it is. I'll just force some chicken soup down or something. Go to work."

"It's okay; Brady owes me one, anyway."

"Who?"

"Remember that newbie that got sick when you and I first started dating?" I nod; the story sounds vaguely familiar. "Yeah. He owes me." Closing my eyes when I feel another wave of nausea sweep through me, Damon decides, "Alright. Time to go to the doctor."

"I'll be fine," I tell him, joking lightly. "Get out of here."

"You're my wife," he murmurs, slipping his hand into mine and running his thumbs over my knuckles. "It's my job to take care of you."

"Exactly. I'm the wife," I smile weakly, squeezing his hand and feeling his gold ring under my fingertips. "I give you permission not to."

He leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on my brow. "I don't want you to be home alone. You're sick, Elena."

"Exactly! I'm s_ick_," I giggle, sitting up sharply and taking his face in my hands. "Not dy…oh no," I groan, wincing when my insides flip. I leap over Damon's lap and run into bathroom, falling to my knees in front of the porcelain bowl just in time to empty my stomach. "Okay," I gasp once I'm finished, feeling him sweep my hair off of my neck. "You win. We'll schedule an appointment."

* * *

_The Next Day…_

We step through the revolving doors with Damon's arm wrapped around my waist; he still doesn't trust my balance, or lack thereof. As we round the corner, we collide smack dab into someone I'd been lucky to have avoided for the last four years...apparently that luck has to run out sometime.

"Well, well, well," the bitch purrs. "Long time no see."

"Katherine," I greet coldly, not able to feign politeness for the life of me. "It's been a while."

"What are you doing here?" Damon growls. "Come to wreak havoc on some other family?"

"Actually no. I'm here with my husband, Elijah." That poor, unsuspecting man. I wonder what kind of brainwashing she had to do to get anyone to marry her. "We're here for our check-up."

"You're pregnant?" I question and she nods. I'd say congratulations...but the truth is that I feel bad for her baby and its father. Damon's fingertips gently press into my side, and I know he's begging us to keep moving. He doesn't want another big scene - neither do I - so I shrug. "Well, we're going to be late if we don't get a move on..."

"Take care of yourself, Katherine," Damon says dispassionately, forcing me to move until we make it into the elevator. "She looked kind of green, didn't she?"

I nodded. I knew the effects of pregnancy all too well. I'd say she was seven weeks a long, give or take. "A little bit, yes."

Damon took his hand in mine. "I've gotta say," he said, amused, "I'm kind of surprised she didn't try anything."

"Morning sickness has a way of derailing things." Damon and I had tried making love this morning, but when he'd flipped me over in the heat of the moment, my stomach had flipped too and I'd bolted for the toilet. "She wasn't up for causing hell when she was feeling like it."

"Speaking of feeling like hell," he said softly, pulling me against his side and placing a kiss on my temple. "How are you feeling?"

"Right now I'm fine. I'm just ready to get this over with."

* * *

I'm sitting on the vinyl bed and waiting for the physician to return. She's done a few minor tests, a few major ones too, though I'm not worried. We'll hear what I already know. I'm over-worked, over-tired, and my immune system is a tad on the weaker side at the moment because of it.

Damon is a nervous wreck; his knuckles are white, gripping the arm rests of the chair located by the bed, waiting impatiently.

"Stop it," I scold lightly, winking when he frowns. "What's the matter with you? You look like you're walking into your execution. There's no need to be worried. She's just going to tell me I need to take better care of myself."

"This lady doesn't know what the hell she's doing. This is her first year on her own without supervision." I look at him, plainly confused. How did he know that unless… "I may have talked to Ric and he explained the details on the wannabe practitioner," he tells me sheepishly.

His timid grin doesn't cover the fact that he's judging the doctor. "Don't be mean, Damon. Doctor Bennett seems like a nice woman."

"Nice, but inexperienced."

Right on cue, a knocking on the door sounds and she pokes her head through, waving her clipboard. "May I come in?"

"It's your exam room," Damon explains rudely and I glare at him. "What?" he asks me innocently. "It is."

The woman ignores him, but I don't miss the way her eyes narrow briefly. She pulls up a stool and takes a seat. "So," she begins, glancing down at her chart. "There are a few things we need to discuss."

I nod and watch as Damon's brows dip. He didn't like hearing the word 'few.' "Whats up, doc?" he asks.

"Well," Bennett sighs, looking up. "Elena's not eating properly."

"Because I can't keep anything down," I say immediately. It's not like I'm starving myself on purpose. When she goes on to say that I'm exhausted – I'm well aware, and remind her that I'm the mother of two little kids. But when she says that I'm pregnant and tells me to lie down so that she can do an ultrasound, I freeze.

_What?_ "You want me to do what?"

"Elena's pregnant?" Damon questions softly, before finding a stronger voice. His gaze meets mine as he asks the doctor, "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't be here telling you this for kicks," she smiles. "We found levels of hCG in her blood work. You two don't need me to tell you what you already know." Standing up, she pats my knee.

Well, that can't be right. Before she has a chance to leave, I quickly tell her, "We took a test and it came back negative."

"Our tests are a little more accurate, Mrs. Salvatore." She laughs when I nod slowly, still trying to absorb what she's told us. "I'll give you two a moment and then we'll schedule you with an OB/GYN. I'm sure Ric would like to have you as his patient again. I understand you two are close?"

I nod. I can't imagine anyone else helping us through this again. I'm really pregant!

"I'll discuss it with him then." Her hand lands on the doorknob, but right before she twists it, she turns back to us and declares with a small smile in my direction, "Congratulations." And with that, she exits.

The second she's gone, Damon's lips are on mine, catching me completely off guard; I don't even have a chance to take a breath. His hands tangle in my hair and he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "God I love you."

"I love you too," I reply instantly, my voice cracking.

"You're pregnant, Elena," he beams. His eyes flit to my stomach and he places his hand on top of it. Less than a minute later he glances up at me, smirking lovingly and quipping playfully, "Is there something I should know?" I halfheartedly push him away but he only cups my face in his hands. "You're having my baby," he says, his voice full of wonder and heavy with emotion, leaning in to kiss me again. "Mine."

"It's yours," I grin tearfully, bringing my hand to caress the side of his face. "This baby is 100% Salvatore." He knows Bea and Noah are his; he accepted them into his heart soon after they were conceived, but this child…this child is completely _him_; his blood and his flesh.

Damon leans into my touch and nods, closing his eyes and smiling. "Ready to do the joys of the first trimester a second time?"

"Are you?" I question, laughing when he nods quickly.

Damon nods again when I give him a playful look of doubt, taking my face in his hands and smiling for the hundredth time in the last three minutes. "I think I can deal. The real question is: are Bea and Noah ready to be a big sister and brother to the baby? I think they'll have something to say about this. "

"I think they can deal," I grin, repeating his words.

* * *

When we bring the twins home from Caroline's (she knew what was wrong with me the entire time, or at least, that's what she says), we seat them side-by-side. "Are you okay, Mommy?" Noah asks worriedly, crawling on top of my lap and cupping my face, eyeing every inch of it. Oh, my little man. "You scared me – I haven't seen you in days! You almost hit the floor the last time I saw you! Are you okay?"

"She's fine, kiddo," Damon smirks, sitting on the opposite side of me and Bea scrunches her face in confusion. "I caught her."

"Then what's wrong with you?" Bea asks. "Are you sick?"

I look at Damon and see him nod in encouragement. We discussed this on the way to pick them up, the different reactions to learning the news I'm going to have another baby. They'll both throw a hissy fit. Only one will throw a hissy fit. Both will love the news. One will love the news. Both will hate the news.

I gulp, not wanting to upset them, but know the truth is going to come out in about eight months anyway.

"Mommy, talk!" Noah pokes my cheek, bringing me out of my anxious thoughts.

"What do you two think…" I manage, "About adding another member to our family?"

There's a silence for about five seconds before Bea tugs on Damon's sleeve. "Are we getting a puppy?" she asks excitedly and Noah's eyes widen.

"A puppy! We're getting a puppy?" They both start clapping and laughing and Damon shrugs when I eye him nervously. They misunderstood. Big time.

"What kind of puppy?" Bea squeals. "A big one? I want a big dog!"

"I want a big dog too!" Noah says eagerly and Damon hushes them with a loud whistle, instantly silencing them.

"There's not going to be a dog," he says firmly. "Well," he amends. "Not yet." _What do you mean, not yet? Not ever! This family is too busy for a dog! _Damon's brow jumps, telling me this is his way of getting them to be quiet, at least for now. "Go on. Tell them the news."

"If we're not getting a dog," Noah begins.

"Then are we getting a kitty?" Bea continues, finishing his sentence with a gigantic smile.

"A kitty?" Noah frowns. "Well, that sucks! I want a puppy!"

"No," I laugh, earning a frown from each twin. "No kitties or puppies or anything with fur _or_ feathers for that matter," I add when I see where their thoughts are heading. "How would you feel if I said you may be getting another little brother or sister in a few months?"

* * *

_Eight Months Later…_

"Keep your voices down," I hear Damon whisper. "Mommy's real tired, so we can't stay long. She and the baby need their rest, you got it?"

"Okay!" the twins respond simultaneously, a little louder than what one would consider as being quiet. I hear quick little footsteps pitter-patter across the tile and I open my eyes to see two dark haired munchkins at the edge of my bed.

"Hi guys," I say, my voice a little hoarse from not using it a ton. I've been sleeping for the last few hours. The delivery had gone well, aside from a minor scare that had left Damon_ majorly_ unnerved. It had taken me fifteen minutes to calm him down when the baby was born, for him to realize that we were both okay. Though, he hasn't left my side since.

"Is it a brother or a sister?" Noah asks quietly. "Do we have a boy or a girl?"

I laugh softly at the way he jumbled those words, wiggling my finger in a 'come hither' motion. They scurry next to the hospital bed, peering over it as best as they can when Damon rolls his eyes, chuckling in amusement; they're too short. He lifts them and gently sets them on the edge, keeping steady arms around them both to make sure they don't fall.

"Damon?" I gesture to the basinet a few feet away and he goes and lifts the bundle into his arms, still looking as beautiful as he had when he held the twins in this very room four years ago. He gingerly hands over the newest addition to the Salvatore family and prepares to introduce them. "Bea, Noah," I smile warmly. "I'd like for you to meet your little brother." They're eyes are curious and bright and wide and their smiles are huge and beaming.

"What's his name?" Bea giggles in delight.

"Luka."

"Luka?" I nod at Noah's question. He scoffs suddenly and says, "Okay, Luka. Listen up, little bro." I quirk an eyebrow and Damon shrugs. "You do as I say, when I say it. You won't complain. We clear?"

Bea smacks him upside the head, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. "He's just a little baby, Noah! He doesn't have to listen to you! You don't have to listen to him, Luka," she smiles lovingly, turning her attention back on the newborn.

My heart is swelling. Sibling rivalry between the boys already, but I was expecting that – Damon had informed me it would happen; he'd experienced it with Stefan for years before they finally grew up and grew a pair. I know Noah is going to be there for his little brother though, watching over him and making sure no one – besides Noah, of course – messes with him.

And Bea is already taking him under her wing. I have no doubt they're going to get along….at least until Luka turns four and refuses to play house anymore, saying he's too old for such childish games like Noah has recently informed her.

"Alright you two," Damon says roughly, looking up at him and seeing the expression I love, the one that he often tries to mask as having dust, rather than tears, in his eyes. "Time to give Mommy and Luka some time to rest."

"Awe, but we just got here!" Noah whines, crawling up the bed and planting himself at my side. "I haven't finished giving him rules yet."

"Rules?" I laugh and he nods seriously.

Bea rolls her eyes and hops down. "Noah, don't be stupid. You can't give a baby rules and expect him to follow them!"

Noah glowers at her. "Can too."

"Cannot."

"Can too!"

"Shhh," Damon growls. "That's enough. Aunt Caroline is in the hall waiting for you. The four of you are going to the zoo, so get a move on."

"Uncle Stefan wants to see the monkeys!" Bea giggles. "I forgot."

"Uncle Stefan _is_ a monkey," Damon explains, flashing his oceanic orbs her way. I shoot him a reproachful look and he rolls his eyes. "Alright, go on. Get out of here and go have fun."

"Bye, Luka! Bye, Mommy!" Bea waves before disappearing out of the room.

Noah kisses the sleeping baby's forehead and whispers, "I may start picking on you…but don't worry. I'll be good until you're two." He hops off of the bed and follows his sister. Caroline steps through the door and waves.

"I just wanted to say hi to him before we leave! Stefan's taking them out to the car. Hi, baby!" she squeals softly, tapping him on the nose. "He's so sweet."

I nod my head at her rounded bump. "You're going to have a little one of your own in a month or two."

"I can't wait," she smiles happily. "We're so excited, Elena." Her phone buzzes and she glances down at it. "That's Stefan. He's so impatient; worried that if we don't leave this very minute the lines will be too long and we won't be let in."

"Then feel free to leave," I grin, kissing her cheek when she leans in to kiss mine.

"Job well done," my blonde best friend says to Damon, nodding in approval. "That's a good-looking kid."

"He's got good-looking parents," Damon smirks. "See you, Blondie." Caroline rolls her eyes, says her goodbyes and then exits, leaving me and my husband to ogle over the little person in my arms. Damon cautiously sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and setting his hand on the other side of me. His smile is gigantic when Luka lets out a tiny yawn. "He's waking up," he whispers. "Hey, little dude." He puts the tip of his finger into Luka's little palm and his fingers curl around it. The baby blinks up at him. "Atta boy. He knows who his daddy is."

"I haven't told you yet," he says after a minute or so, kissing my temple and pulling me closer to him. "But you did great last night. You had me nervous, but you did great."

"We were just trying to keep you on your toes," I joke, earning a disapproving look from Damon. "Okay, okay. Too soon."

"Too soon," he nods, stroking our newborn's cheek. "He's a fighter."

"Just like Bea and Noah were."

"Just like you are."

"Just like _we_ are," I grin, earning an amused chuckle from my husband.

"Okay, really," he questions, smirking with bemusement etched in his features. "When did our relationship go from hot-and-heavy to lovey-dovey?" I look at him and he grins. "I have an idea, I'd just like to hear your theories."

"I don't know," I shrug, securing Luka's blanket more snuggly around his little body. "People change."

"Yeah and then there's the whole becoming parents thing. It has a way of limiting our time." He then presses his lips against my ear. When he whispers, his voice low and husky, it causes the hairs on my neck to stand straight up as he tells me, "But don't worry. When they go off to college, we'll get that first part back…"

"College?" I smile at him, amusement dancing in my eyes. I bite my lip and counter with, "I was thinking more like four to six weeks."

He chuckles, shifting his legs slightly to hide the effect of my statement, before he leans closer to place a delicate kiss against my lips. When he pulls back, the adoration in his voice only enhances the words that come next. "Elena Salvatore, I am so happy I married you."

* * *

_AN: I warned you it was fluffy. Hope you all were able to stomach it. ;) Bea and Noah are little pistols, aren't they? Would absolutely love it if you could leave your final thoughts on this story. Thanks so much for your support throughout this thing, guys. It really does mean a lot to me. Xoxo, Kate_

_P.S._

_Follow me on that Twitter thing for spoilers on my stories, LOTS of DE tweets, or if you'd just like to chat: _ThisIsMyEscape_


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